p. nash

i don't know why i bite . . .

[agentnash]

INDEPENDENT, SELECTIVE & PRIVATE ORIGINAL CHARACTER, AGENT PARKER NASH, OF THE FBI. WRITTEN & CREATED BY ASH / THEY THEM / 25+. PREV. ON SLASHAER. READ RULES & ABOUT BEFORE FOLLOWING AND INTERACTING. TRIGGERS INCLUDE, BUT ARE NOT LIMITED TO: HOMICIDE, SERIAL MURDER, BLOOD, DRUGS, ALCOHOL, ADDICTION, CANON TYPICAL VIOLENCE, AND SUGGESTIVE THEMES. EVERYTHING WILL BE TAGGED ACCORDINGLY, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. FOLLOW AT YOUR OWN RISK. ¹ˑ CARRD. ²ˑ MEMES. ³ˑ USFW.

[thisyearsgirls]

[agentnash]

guys we are not having a baja blast at work rn.

[agentnash]

HOLY SHIT, HOLY FUCK, THEY CONFIRMED READY OR NOT 2 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

[vaememes]

A    BLOOD   LUST    INBOX    MEME.       TRIGGER   WARNING:   blood,  murder,  death,  violence.    please  do  not  read  forward  if  you  are  easily  squeamish.  

(   send  me   ‘   🔴   ’   to  generate  a  bloody  scenario  between  our  muses.  feel  free  to  specify  a  number  if  you’d  like.      inspo.   )

your  muse wiping/licking  blood  from  my  muses  lips.

my  muse  wiping/licking  blood  from  your  muses  lips.

our  muses  cleaning  up  blood  together  from  a  kill.

my  muse  applying  pressure  your  muses  bleeding  wound.

your  muse  applying  pressure  to  my  muses  bleeding  wound.

our  muses  stumbling  upon  a  blood  trail  together.

our  muses  sharing  a  kiss  that  accidentally  draws  blood.

my/your  muse  sinking  their  teeth/fangs  into  my/your  muses  neck.

your  muse  catching  my  muse  drinking  blood.

my  muse  catching  your  muse  drinking  blood.

your  muse  helping  my  muse  clean  blood  off  of  them.

my  muse  helping  your  muse  clean  blood  off  of  them.

our  muses  sleeping  together  in  their  victims  bloody  sheets.

our  muses  having/sharing  a  blood  bath/shower  together.

our  muses  looking  to  the  sky  as  it  rains  blood.

my  muse  accidentally  biting  yours  too  hard,  drawing  blood.   

your  muse  accidentally  biting  my  muse  too  hard,  drawing  blood.

my  muse  licking  blood  off  your  muses  finger.

your  muse  licking  blood  off  my  muses  finger.

my/your  muse  pleading  for  no  more  blood  shed  from  my/your  muse.

[agentnash]

i'm dying my hair and lurking around, hmu if you wanna chat / plot. especially if we haven't gotten anything started yet <3

[truthacknowledged]

@agentnash sent : Trick or Treat!  🎃

bonus : fucked up scully and mulder

[raidstombs]

Ask Box Trick-or-Treat

Send ‘Trick or Treat!  🎃’ to my inbox and I’ll give you a treat! This could be: a promo graphic, icons, an aesthetic graphic of your muse, a drabble, a photoset of our muses together, a moodboard based on one of our threads, or some other goodie! Happy Halloween!  Let’s celebrate!

[agentnash]

writing down starters in my little notebook to post later, real old school style.

[sociopathichero]

With gloved hands, Danila picked up the shell casings from the floor. Three shots, one to the head. Just to be sure. This time he had used a 9 mm Beretta 92. Soon it'd be at the bottom of Hudson River.

He was always careful, but this time he needed to be even more so. The string of murders, even if they had been spread out over several months, had caught the attention of the FBI. They might have tried to keep it under wraps, but the tabloids didn't care.

His contact in the brigade, Alexei, hadn't been too worried about the new turn of events. And why would he? The brigade had been sure to insulate itself from Danila completely from the very beginning, save for Alexei.

Blood kept slowly pooling under the lifeless man that laid in front of Danila. The poor bastard had conned the wrong crowd and thought they wouldn't notice. Now he was leaning face-first against a wall in the hallway of his own home, only a few steps from the front door. That's the spot where Danila had surprised him after spending too many hours crouching in bushes in the middle of a suburb whose name he couldn't recall. The man had just arrived at an empty home; his wife and children were away.

Trying not to give the man any more thought, Danila walked to the back door making his way into the garden. There he waded through the bushes, slipped the gun under the waistband of his sweatpants, and stuffed the latex gloves into his pocket. A minute later he was walking on a sleepy street that led away from the suburb. With the hood of his hoodie up and earbuds in his ears, he looked like a run-of-the-mill jogger trying to get his daily miles in.

He began to jog towards the car he had parked a couple of miles away.

@agentnash

[agentnash]

bodies upon bodies upon bodies. the agent’s life had become nothing but death once he accepted the badge from the training academy, though even before then, parker was much too familiar with the rates of human mortality. there was no escaping it, but he had put himself squarely in the middle of other's violence, breaking into the minds of killer’s and staying there until he hunted them down and put them where they belonged. there was a satisfaction parker didn’t often like to admit in locking them away, even hurting them when necessary. there were moments when he pondered — half filled with whiskey — what the degree of separation really was between him and those he tracked down and put away for life. right now, his focus remains on the case he had been working on for months.

he felt close, but never close enough. even when parker thought he was catching up, whose who were leaving a trail of bodies behind them were always ten steps ahead, and then some. when he realized that this wasn’t just one man, that the killings went deeper, into mob territory, parker found himself getting lost in their killings, a fucked up alice getting lost down a fucked up rabbit hole. now, he takes a drink from the flask in his glove compartment, racing down the freeway following a call from his supervisor, stating that another one had been killed just an hour before the body was discovered ( too little, too fucking late ).

when agent nash arrives on the scene, he sees a dead man, blood now congealed around his blown through head. a gloved hand reaches down to what was left of it, looking at the man’s missing face with desensitized wonder. despite not knowing the motive quite yet, the means of the kill were the same as the rest of them had been, and so parker had no doubt that this was the same man he had been hunting for months. ten steps behind, once again.

cussing under his breath, parker stands and takes in the scene. he knew he wouldn't find any shell casings, fingerprints, or loose pieces of hair. that man he was dealing with was smarter than that; he knew how to clean up after himself. when he's done searching pointlessly through the blood and gore, parker found his way to the back yard, only to set eyes upon shallow footprints in the grass there. it could easily be missed, passed off as the steps of the dead man inside of the house. but as his eyes moved to follow the prints toward the gate, parker got a feeling inside of his stomach. a hunch.

quick call to his supervisor is made before he's climbing back behind the wheel of his car. there was no way of telling which way the killer might have went, but parker turns and heads down the street the opposite way of which he came, following an instinct that could be dead wrong.

[agentnash]

i had to shower and put away laundry like a grown up, but i'm here now <3

[agentnash]

okay new multi is @slashaer if you're interested xoxo.

[agentnash]

okay, i wrote some, now i'm gonna work on moving my multi. hmu if you wanna plot tho <3

[agentnash]

parker has been pulled into a world he had previously swore to take down. as an agent of the law, he should be firmly against everything jigsaw stands for. and he was, for a time. then, parker was tested. he has come inches within losing a life he cared very little for. when he willed himself to survive inside of the twisted game that had been set up for him, parker finally understood how precious life actually was. john helped parker to stop slowly killing himself with booze, gave him a chance to change, not just his own life, but the lives of other, too. hands work diligently against the trap john had let him take over, meticulously checking nuts and bolts to ensure their tightness. when hennifer walks over, he's quick to give her his attention, lips pulling up into a smirk as they kiss, the man enjoying the shallow pain when she nips at his bottom lip. 'you're fucked up, y'know that?' parker teases as he sets his hands on her hips, pulling jennifer tight against his body. she understands just as well as he does how important this work is. someone's life was about to change, and it'll be all because of them. 'they're not gonna know what hit 'em,' @devilscheck / cont.

[lamourt]

lestat throws his hands up helplessly, looking skyward– as if there was ever anyone up there to answer him. 'perhaps you've forgotten,' he says, stepping in between parker and his beloved wall of insanity, 'that i have a century of experience where you have none.' in fact, lestat is delighted by parker's instinct to hunt, his lust for blood. but this is not the way to do it. he sighs. 'i'm not trying to stop you, mon cher. eat his heart. hunt him to the ends of the earth. i will do it by your side. but you will be useless if you don't feed. you'll be sickly, and weak, and it will not serve you.'

[agentnash]

parker is aware of lestat's longevity and experience with vampirism, because the elder seldom allows him to forget it. as new as this immortality is to him, parker has quickly acclimated to the monstrosity of it all. he understands what could happen if he starves himself. the risks may outweigh the reward, but parker is confident in his ability to track down the killer that has escaped him for decades. fiery eyes glance toward lestat, a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue, but when parker sees genuine concern on the other man's features, parker halts. there is little he loathed more than being told what to do, but maybe lestat's demanding nature comes with an underlying sense of care. arms that are crossed slacken a bit, tense shoulders drop an inch. 'then help me,' parker speaks, brandishing a hand towards the questionable evidence wall in front of them. 'i'm so fucking close. i can feel it. i can... i can smell him, almost,' eyes meet lestat's then, a rare moment of the man pleading for help from his companion. 'the faster we track him down, the faster we get to eat,'

[agentnash]

SADIE BENNETT: I SAW MORE THAN MY FAIR SHARE OF NASTY STUFF.

'never questioned that,' in the nicest way possible, sadie seemed like someone who had seem some shit. she was tough; mean in a way that made parker admire the older woman. he glances at her as he swigs from his pint glass ( he'll have to order another beer soon ). 'just wondering what the nasty shit you've seen could be, that's all,' @eurosleaz.

[agentnash]

PERSEPHONE POTTER: MAYBE YOU COULD STAY? JUST FOR TONIGHT?

up until this point, parker and persephone had increasingly hung around each other, but always found their way back to their respective homes afterward. where parker has spent the evenings with plenty of flings and one offs, he never wanted percy to think she's someone he wants to — for lack of a better phrase — pump and dump. she is more than that to him. he had been reaching for his keys when percy asked him to stay. parker realizes she could be asking because driving intoxicated is highly frowned upon, even if he isn't as drunk as he usually is. he hopes, however, that it's because she really wants him here — an entirely foreign feeling to parker. keys rest in now closed palm, the man glancing down at percy, still in her seat. 'alright, sure,' words are mumbled as keys are slid back into his pocket, parker slowly lowering himself back down into his own chair. 'didn't bring any clothes with me, so hopefully that's not a problem,' @spiritdreamt.