#and that even after her father pushes she's reluctant to try to advance her son over her former friend

[criston-cole]

#hotdedit #house of the dragon #alicent hightower #alicenthightoweredit #rhaenicent #myedit #idk i find it much more emotional and compelling to see them go from where they started to where theyre gonna end up #that 3 years after their relationship fell apart alicent still is reaching out and supportive when rhaenyra is giving her nothing #and that even after her father pushes she's reluctant to try to advance her son over her former friend #kinda gay

[blakeattorneys]

What's The Consequence Of Domestic Violence On Youngster Custody Cases?

We attend to court appearances, pressing purposes, purposes, trials, service and submitting, indexing and pagination. Our places of work are geared up with the necessary experience to assist you with your trust necessities. We believe within the importance of a sound and correct Will and are capable of help you in guaranteeing that your wishes are correctly recorded in addition to ensuring that the authorized necessities are complied with.

The Domestic Violence Act 116 of 1998 permits a complainant to acquire a safety order from the courtroom to protect her/him from future abuse. The safety order prohibits an abuser from doing sure actions or orders them to do particular issues, such as not having any contact with the complainant. The spouse with whom the dependent children will reside will clearly have more bills in respect of the children. For example, if the care giving father or mother has three kids, aged four, 12 and 22, that reside with her or him, the youngest child might be allocated 1/7 of such bills and the older youngsters and the father or mother 2/7 each. The conduct of the events in so far as it might be relevant to the breakdown of the marriage.

After the divorce, the parties should turn out to be economically unbiased of each other as quickly as potential. Generally, our courts will all the time attempt to achieve a whole termination of economic dependence of 1 partner on the other if the circumstances allow. Where a lady is incomes sufficient or has enough revenue from assets to support herself and maintain her standard of living, the court will generally be reluctant to award maintenance in her favour. A courtroom will not award upkeep in instances where the lady is younger, well certified, has no youngsters or no younger children, has worked via all her married life and is in good well being, and where the marriage was not of lengthy length. In addition, we help the Women’s Legal Centre, a public curiosity legislation centre began by ladies to enable ladies to use the regulation to advance their rights to equality. One of the tasks the Legal Centre recognized for Johannesburg was to supply authorized providers to intercourse staff, who remain an unrecognized work force.

There are countless reasons why an individual would lay a false declare against another particular person. It can vary from attempting to pressure a settlement settlement in a divorce or maintenance case, trying to keep minor kids away from the other mother or father, or one thing so simple as applying for a safety order a a type of revenge. If someone laid a false charge in opposition to you it's of vital significance to file a correct reply underneath oath and appoint a domestic violence attorney to represent you on the return date.

The Minister of Police has acknowledged that domestic violence is a SAPS precedence, however today’s stories do not bear that out. “Domestic abuse is all about power and control, and the pink flags had been obvious proper from the beginning. Even from his alleged refusal to allow their sons to be brissed, to what colour she should dye her hair, and what automobile to drive, there was disapproval and belittling. That’s why individuals don’t see it or are probably to dismiss it as a result of most people want to give attention to the nice in a person, but it at all times comes again to haunt us in the long run.This is what ladies have to look out for. It runs over time, and is not only one factor, an abuser operates over many areas, all the while putting the person down and making them doubt their own sanity,” mentioned Hendler.

– if the complainant is being pressured by the respondent to perform a sexual act, for instance, the respondent may force the complainant to have sexual activity with him/her. – if the complainant is being physically injured by the respondent, for example, being punched, kicked or pushed. Through LvA’s repeated engagement with police officials serving Diepsloot, we now have identified the need for higher accountability and capacitation.

The Domestic Violence Act provides so that you just can anticipate the hearing date of the matter. This means that, upon 24 Hours written notice, you probably can place the matter earlier than a Magistrate for hearing in order to state your case. If the Magistrate is satisfied that the Order should not have been granted, the Interim Order will be set aside. The RAF offers personal damage and, when applicable, dying compensation to those injured in motorized vehicle accidents, supplied the accidents weren’t triggered solely by them.

What constitutes a necessity for a specific party will naturally depend on the usual of dwelling of the couple in the course of the marriage. What is taken into account to be a need in one family could additionally be thought of a luxury in another. A distinction must additional be made between the parties’ needs and desires.

It is necessary to remember that criminal charges could also be laid in cases where acts of domestic violence/sexual harassment represent an offence, such as assault or rape. It doesn't imply that one must first exhaust the remedies available under the protection order earlier than laying the felony costs, if this offence was committed. One can register the felony charge with or and not utilizing a safety order. When applying for a safety order, the complainant may request for the elimination of the respondent’s firearm or other dangerous weapon. If the Magistrate orders the police to take away the firearm, the police will maintain the firearm till the case has been finalized.

[littlemissagrafina]

A Man And His Bots

A look into the relationship and care between Tony and his bots and A.I's.

Read on AO3

Tony had people issues. Everyone knew it. He knew it.

People were foreign to him, they had been ever since he was young. He just couldn't understand them.

No, that was wrong, he could understand them, it just wasn't always easy to do and more often than not it was exhausting to even try. Sure, there were some people he understood, his mom, Jarvis, and even Howard. Tony could understand him easily. It didn't take a genius to know that the elder Stark disliked, even hated, his son at times.

The tears and occasional bruises left on Tony's skin were a testament to that fact.

Anyone other than his mother and Jarvis were almost a trial to talk to and to be around. It made the social networking at events that he was pushed into by his parents that much more unbearable for Tony. 

The dinners, gala's, and charity events were some of the most draining nights in Tony's young life that he could remember. They always left him longing to be back in his room with his tools and various pieces of metal and machinery.

Maria and Jarvis understood his need to be alone and in the quiet of his own little world, but Howard hated it. Oh, he hated it. But usually if Tony had behaved well enough through what felt like the hundredth event in the space of a month, the man would turn a reluctant blind eye to the nights that his wife and Jarvis would help Tony sneak out to the quiet solitude of his room.

Tony grew to miss those nights where they would help him escape once he was shipped off to boarding school on his father's command. At least finishing senior year by fifteen had left him without many friends, either due to jealousy, bullying, or his own unwillingness to socialise.

Most of them had been after his money and status anyway, a hard fact Tony had had to face when the rare times of loneliness forced him to attempt a friendship with anyone. Eventually he stopped caring to try, and he spent his lonely nights as he always had, with tools, scraps, and blueprints.

It was thanks to those nights the the rudimentary start of his own A.I and been birthed, the work and escape it provided lasting right into his first year at MIT where, much to his surprise, he seemed to have formed what he thought could be a genuine friendship with his roommate.

James Rhodes. Or Rhodey as Tony had taken to calling him. In the beginning the older teen had come across as a stuck up,  goody two shoes. Over time, he had proven to have a fun and mischievous side that matched perfectly to Tony's own as they grew closer.

Although Tony had grown attached to his Honeybear, it didn't take away from the many, many times he needed his own space and a quiet retreat; a fact that Rhodey understood just as Maria and Jarvis had, something that took Tony by endless surprise.

Rhodey showed Tony an unused room near the campus labs, explaining that it was once meant to be an extension of a separate lab but had never been pulled properly into the plans and curriculum. As such, it had been forgotten in a way.

It was the perfect room for Tony to turn into his own getaway, and one that Rhodey had even helped him set up with a couple spare benches and tables they found in the storage rooms, soon filling it with other things such as a random couch they found in perfect condition outside a frat house, some equipment for Tony’s inventing, and other stray items they collected over time.

It was in this room that Dumm-E whirred fully to life, finally sentient and real.

And Tony loved him.

---

Eventually U would join Dumm-E in the "brotherhood of bots" as Tony called them even though there were only two of them.

He wasn't quite sure how it happened (if at all), sometimes even imagined if he was just reading too much into it, but Tony swore that his little bots seemed to express emotions at times.

There were little whirs that they emitted when he would power them up or if they were on when he entered a room. They almost felt like greetings to Tony.

There was also the panicked beeping at the numerous fires Tony would inevitably cause, or when he injured himself in the lab. Of course, followed by their more often than not misshapen attempts and trying to help him with said fire or injury.

Tony didn't think he'd ever be able to leave a fire extinguisher safely in their keep but he still continued to try.

There were other instances that made him question the emotional range of the little A.I's he'd made, but it was their greetings and "helpful" times that always managed to warm his heart.

They weren't people, but they were his and he could understand them.

And he hoped the bots somehow knew how much he cared for them in turn.

---

It was after Jarvis' death that Tony truly became dependent on his creations. Sure, he'd needed them after his parent's death, just like he'd always needed his tinkering, inventing, and whatever other techy think he was doing at that time.

But Jarvis' death… it broke him in a way that Howard and Maria's hadn't been able to. If he felt like it, Tony could probably wonder the reasoning behind it, if it was because of the clear difference in affection, care, and feeling of responsibility that the man held rather than what Howard or Maria had. But he didn't feel like it.

It was listening to a recording of a voicemail that Jarvis had sent him during college that gave Tony the idea. 

Locking himself in his lab, he hunted down every other voicemail or video he could get his hands on, typed code until his fingers cramped, and downed coffee until his legs were buzzing.

Rhodey knocking on his door in an attempt to curb his friend's self-destructive tendencies was flat out ignored, each call and voicemail not heard.

It continued until his single minded grief and need to create and to fix was softened and his work complete.

The most advanced A.I known to man was created, and Tony's loneliness and grief had someplace to go.

Jarvis was reborn.

---

The familiar safety and retreat of the bodyless British voice stayed with Tony for so many years. It was there through his many tabloid rises and falls, his numerous parties, one night stands and two week girlfriends.

It was there for his breakdowns, his breakdowns, and retreating from the world around him.

He was there before Afghanistan and once again after. Through Iron Man being born, through Obie's betrayal, the palladium, avengers, Killian.

All of it and Jarvis was there. Sure Tony had people to lean on, to love. He had Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy, but Dumm-E, U, and Jarvis were different.

The A.I had slowly become an entity to Tony. He wasn't just an animated voice anymore, he was the legacy of the man who was once practically his father.

And it was only so fitting that he experience the grief and loss of the man twice.

When Ultron happened and Jarvis was destroyed, Tony felt as if he went into a blanket of shock, only feeling and grieving once he was fully alone. And dammit did he grieve.

It manifested in anger first, and when that faded, it moved to sadness. A deep aching sadness reminiscent of his first loss. He hated it, loathed it, and wished he had the same outlet he had had for the first death.

But didn't he?

What was stopping him from creating it again? But not another Jarvis. Tony couldn't do this again, but what if he created another A.I? One separate from Jarvis and his meaning?

So he got to work, alone with his bots and once again spinning his grief into lines of code.

This time, a sister for Dumm-E and U was born. A spunky, Irish A.I with a similar proclivity for sarcasm to what her predecessor held.

"Lights on, baby girl. We've got work to do."

---

Just as Tony had grown to need Dumm-E and U, how he had needed Jarvis, he needed Friday too.

He supposed it sounded strange to regular people, the way he was more comfortable around his creations than around most of the human population, but to him it wasn't unlike the way people would gravitate towards animals, or books, or art.

It was easy for Tony. It was a comfort to him in the same way having a cat on your lap or a dog across your feet was, just in a different, mechanical or technical form.

The constant presence of Friday in his lab and his suits and his home was important to Tony. The strange alliance and comradery they had formed once again boosting the feeling of curiosity and care towards the emotions his creations had developed.

It was something he cherished, something he needed.

She wasn't Jarvis, but she had helped him and been with him in his times of need since she had been born, and Tony knew her and the bots would be there, still, in many times to come.

"Drop my needle, Fri. And show me Peter's patrol feed too, would'a?"

"Right away, boss."

#tony stark #iron man #jarvis #dumm-e #U #Friday #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #tony stark protection squad

[themadauthorshatter]

... I’ve already made a draft of this and deleted it, but I’m going back in. 

This is an AU of what would happen if Mareven was healthy and the end game. 

I apologize in advance for any and all MareCal shippers, including myself. 

SO! What happens? 

Simple. 

Everything remains mostly the same in the story except we get more of a doubtful and uneasy Maven as the story progresses, as in he hugs Mare a little longer and is genuinely perturbed when he hears about the ‘bomb’ that went off and looks terrified of Cal when he returns and orders Farley to be tortured. He’s also more hesitant to listen to his mother. 

He still offers Cal’s legion to the Guard, but is a little sadder to say it. 

THEN WE GET TO THE PLOT TWIST OF THE STORY!!!!!!!!!

Maven plays along, but, as he stands by his mother’s side, he mouths, “sorry” to Mare and goes for a gun on Arven’s belt, shooting him in the leg and warning him not to try silencing him or he’ll aim for something more vital. 

It catches EVERYONE off guard, especially Elara, who’s about to risk having Cal or Tibe out of her whispers to get Maven back in line. 

Instead, Elara asks what he’s doing and why, as she thought this was what he’d always wanted. 

“It’s what you want, Mother. Not me. None of this is right. You’re already the Queen. What else do you want!?” 

Elara bares her teeth. “Are you saying you want to live your days with a Red rat?” 

Maven pulls Mare to her feet and pushes her behind him, keeping the gun at them, nodding. “I’m saying I'm not following your plans or listening to anything you have to say. I'll die before I let you in my head again!” 

Well, wish granted because Mare senses the cameras turning back on and Elara lets Tibe and Cal go.

Only to force Maven to shoot her and Tibe, though Maven actually misses him.

Mare breaks free and they make a run for it, Elara shouting that they are traitors and to arrest them, though she does force Tibe to play the part of concerned husband.

Cal isn't in the room because he races after Maven and Mare.

Speaking of which, Maven leads Mare through the castle and finds a hall that goes toward a servant's passage, so they can escape.

Too bad there are guards that round the corner and take aim at them, not only for staging a coup de ta, but also for attempted regicide.

Cal's there too, aiming a handgun at them and telling them to submit to arrest.

They do and are sent to the Silent Stone cells.

Mare is confused and livid and doesn't want to talk to Maven, who keeps pacing and clutching his head and telling someone to be quiet. 

Mare mentally tells him to maybe practice what he’s preaching, but wonders what the hell all that was when they were captured. 

Maven sighs and sits down, back-to-back with Mare, and asks her how good she is at picking locks. 

Her hands are for picking pockets, not locks. 

Maven lets out a semi-bitter chuckle and regards that he shouldn’t have bothered asking because of course she’s better at pockets. he then admits that he’d been so scared of the cells as a boy, his young mind tricking him into thinking that there were monsters or prisoners in the cells. 

Speaking of the cells, Mare breaks her silence and asks why it’s so hard for her to use her powers, even asking if Arven is close by listening to them. 

Maven admits it would be useful to do that, but no. The cells are made of Silent Stone, which is basically Arven being there without him really being there. 

Although she already knows what’s going to happen, Mare wonders what will happen to them, in the Bowl of Bones. 

Maven lists off a firing squad, some Silvers, maybe some animals, and the fact that no matter what, the show will not be short; the people want blood and Tibe is going to give them blood, even if it’s his own son’s. 

“Not if he can’t find you.” 

Both Mare and Maven stand as Cal walks in, dressed formally and holding a set of keys to the cells. 

Maven asks what this is and what Cal’s doing as he opens both Maven’s and Mare’s cells. 

Cal explains that he’s already had to give Julian a head start and hopes that Maven and mare can do the same, can vanish into thin air before their execution. 

Mare asks why they should accept the help, seeing as Cal’s the one who arrested them, but Cal counters by asking who’s idea it was to get them arrested, glaring daggers at Maven. 

Maven has his own question: How does Cal know they won’t be seen? 

Cal looks away and admits that he hopes there aren’t any Red servants that know how to fix the security system.

Maven and Mare exchange a glance and start walking, but Cal gets between them, shackles them, and grabs their arms, telling them to play along and make it convincing so no one questions anything. 

They both do their best reluctant prisoners act up until they pass by Sonya, who inquires as to where Cal’s taking them. 

Cal states he’s just taking them to get some cardio before their execution, seeing as how they’ll need every ounce of strength they’ll need. 

Sonya spits that they shouldn’t and should actually fight with nooses around their necks so they’re easier to grab and throw around, but drops it anyway, eying Cal before she leaves. 

Time’s almost up, so it’s a good thing Maven leads Cal to a servant passage, where they stop and get free, Maven getting his flame-maker bracelets back. 

Maven opens the passage, but Cal stops him and Mare, telling them to be careful now, because if they manage to escape, they’ll be fugitives and will get hunted like deer for treason, Maven for attempted regicide, from what narrative that now exists. 

They nod and thank him for the help. 

Before Mare can follow Maven, Cal grabs her arm again, which makes Mare turn to him. 

The two stare at each other, realizing what’s happening and what’s going to happen. 

The royals will figure out that Cal helped them escape and will probably have him killed for letting two traitors run free. 

Cal is the one who helped her in the first place by getting her the job at the Summer Palace, and now he’s saving her life again, this time also saving his brother’s and risking his own. 

Maven shouts for Mare to keep it moving and Mare pulls out of Cal’s grip, backs away, and races after Maven, Cal watching her leave before closing the passage. 

His face contorts with sorrow, regret, anger, and pain and he clenches a fist as he hears a sentinel shout that Mare and Maven are missing. 

Cal shouts, “They’re this way!” and races down the hallway and away from the bookshelf, trying to make it look like they outran him. 

In the passage, Maven leads Mare by the hand as they soon find themselves underground and under the streets, overhearing an announcement to keep an eye out for the two of them because both are armed and dangerous, Mare especially. 

Maven groans at his father’s words and muses that at least they’re out. 

Mare isn’t as relieved and asks what he was planning with his mother. 

Maven stops in his steps and states that she already knows. 

Mare does know, she just wants to hear Maven say it. 

Maven bites his tongue and clenches his fist at his side, not turning to face Mare as he asks what will happen if he doesn’t tell her. 

She’ll make him tell her, make him talk or she’ll shock him until he dies. 

Maven  tightens his fist but then drops it, admitting he and Elara planned on killing Tibe and using Mare and Cal as scapegoats, sending them to the Bowl of Bones, and having them executed to wrap up the story and solidify Maven as the new King, with no Scarlet Guard and no loose ends to ensure the story of Mare being a Red would slip out. 

Mare demands he define ‘loose ends.’ 

Lady Blonos. The servant girls who dressed Mare as a Silver. Lucas. Julian. Sara. Mare’s family. Kilorn. Cal. Mare herself. All the Reds on the list Julian gave her. 

Mare gasps at that last one, sliding down a wall as Maven explains in increasing panic and with his eyes growing teary that he was along with the ride and all for getting the throne the way his mother planned, but then he began to feel genuine feelings for Mare and her plight and no matter how much Elara tried to take those feelings away, they always came back. She did the same with Tibe, making Maven lose his love for him, and had semi-success with Cal, but didn’t fully remove his love for his brother. It also changed when they killed Blonos and the servant girls, and when Tristan died. It opened Maven’s eyes and made him realize that he was going to kill someone he didn’t want to die. he’d already lost Thomas and it was his own fault, but if he was the reason he lost Mare, too, he’d lose his mind. 

Maven stops his rambling and joins Mare against the wall, admitting that he knows he deserves whatever comes next, but whatever does happen, he just asks that mare know that he is sorry for all of this, for putting her in such danger that now they’re on the run and risk execution if they’re caught. 

Mare turns to him and asks if Elara has the list, if he told her about the Newbloods. 

Maven shakes his head; the raid was going to happen in a few hour hours, so there wouldn’t have been enough time for Elara to look through his mind, write down all the names, and the find them in the blood base, so they have a good head start there, too. 

After a minute of collecting themselves, and a glare from Mare, the two stand up and keep walking until they reach a fork in the path and wonder which is safer.

The only answer they get is a gun pushed against the back of Maven's head and a certain blaonde telling him to go right or she's painting the tunnel Silver.

Mare turns and sees Kilorn and Farley, with the addition of a certain Barrow we all still mourn, don't lie.

"Shade!"

Mare and Shade reunite, though Maven voices confusion as he thought Shade had been executed.

Shade explains that they tried and failed, making an example by teleporting in front of and behind them, saying with pride that no one's faster than him.

Mare is a mix of happy and sad at the news, but Farley brings them back and reminds them they need to keep going or they'll get arrested and killed.

Maven also gets put back in shackles, but acts as a good sport and doesn't burn them off.

They continue throught the tunnel until they reach a train, climb aboard, and get to riding, merrily on their way to nowhere in particular.

Back in White Fire, Elara slaps Cal HARD in the face and demands to know what he was thinking and where Maven and Mare are.

Tibe gets between them, but Cal admits that he didn't fully know what he was thinking, just that he couldn't let his brother be forced to fight when he's still in training. It would be a bloodbath.

Elara asks if that's the same reason why he also let Mare go, or if there's something he's not telling them.

Tibe also wants to know. He understands letting Maven go, but why a Red rat like Mare? If the people see her lightning powers and Red blood, there will be Hell to pay.

Cal's silent, but Elara solves that with a quick look into his mind, seeing all the moments of Cal and Mare being close and friendly with each other.

Elara asks Cal if he's more interested in dirt than diamonds and Tibe gets the picture instantly, upon seeing Cal's reaction.

Change of plan: Cal is getting his legion back in action, and an additional two hundred soldiers to locate and either capture or kill Mare and Maven. No more catch and releases or else it's Cal who fights in the arena and he'll have nothing but his wits to defend himself.

Cal pales at this and gasps that they can't kill him, because then Norta has no heir.

Tibe only glares at him and tells him not to fail before leaving to let Cal get his army ready.

Cal watches his father leave and is broken by the fact that he legitimately screwed up and that his father, as King, needs Maven, his own son, executed with Mare, someone who never should have had her powers to begin with.

Elara glares at Cal for a moment longer and also walks out of the room, leaving Cal on his own.

#red queen #mare barrow #maven calore #tiberias calore vii #cal calore #tiberias calore vi #elara merandus #au #ua #mareven #healthy mareven #I'm making Cal the antagonist and I'm so sorry #sorry to marecal shippers everywhere

[hoaryoldbitch]

as i stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge (6)

Sansa

Sansa braced herself and took a deep breath as she stood in front of the door to Jon's chambers in the guesthouse. Be brave, she told herself, like Alayne, like a Stark. She knocked and waited.

He opened the door with small eyes and tousled hair, and a rumpled, open tunic he had hastily thrown on. She could see more scars on his chest, but it was too dark to get a good look at them. He frowned down at her, blinking and rubbing his eyes scruffy beard, but said nothing.

"Can I come in?" she asked, lowering her hood. "It's safe," she added. "None of Petyr or Myranda's spies are around at this hour."

His frown deepened, but he nodded and stepped aside to let her in. He closed the door behind her and turned to face her. His face gave nothing away, but then he advanced and his arms were around her, pulling her into his body. She wrapped her own arms around him and tucked her head under his chin, nuzzling her cheek into his chest.

He was warm and solid, and he smelled like pine, leather and fresh sweat. He pressed his lips to her hair and sighed, his arms tightening around her. "Why did you lie to me?" he whispered roughly.

She wasn't ready to talk yet, so she only turned her head and pressed her brow to his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she squeaked into his collarbone. She couldn't tell how much time had passed when he finally released her and walked over to the settee and sat down, patting the space beside him. 

As she took a seat, he told her, "Talk. Please."

She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. There was a candle on the table in front of her that made her blink when she looked up again. "I am sorry for lying to you, Jon."

He combed his hair back with his fingers and pursed his lips, nodding. "I was shocked, and and a little hurt, and very confused," he admitted. 

He didn't have to elaborate for her to understand. Somewhere along the way, as she had tried to play her part of Alayne, the lines had been blurred. She certainly couldn't tell whether it was Sansa or Alayne who had wanted Jon to kiss her up on the gallery. She took a deep breath and allowed herself another moment to gather her thoughts. "I've been Alayne for a very long time, to protect myself."

He blinked and shook his head. 

"Sansa Stark is wanted for murdering King Joffrey."

"Did you?" he asked her. "Did you kill King Joffrey?"

"I didn't know. The poison was in my hairnet." She shook her head. "I didn't know, but there are witnesses who will claim that I did."

"It would have been a righteous kill if you had," he muttered. "He deserved it."

She nodded and licked her lips. "I wanted to tell you. I really did. But it was easier this way. I was already slipping up too often since you came here."

"I don't understand," he told her. "I would have taken you home in a heartbeat if you had told me. You'd be safe back North. No one there would care whether you killed him or not, and they wouldn't sell you out to the Lannisters."

She offered him a sad smile. "But you didn't come here for me."

His brow furrowed. "No, but--

"You came here for the Vale's men and their food and resources."

He gave her a quick nod. "True."

She took a deep breath. "Sansa Stark can't give you those, but Alayne can."

He stared at her, long and hard, and then asked, "Was it him? Baelish? Did he force you to do this?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, he didn't force me, but..."

"But what?"

She inhaled deeply, and for the first time, she found herself ready to admit something she must have known for a long while now, but hadn't been able to face. "I'm afraid of him."

Jon took her hand and nodded. "I can see why."

"No," she objected. "You don't understand. He killed Aunt Lysa." Suddenly, the words started tumbling out of her mouth. "She saw... He kissed me, and she saw. She was jealous, she tried to throw me out the Moon Door, but he got to her first."

Jon remained quiet as he squeezed her hand. "Does he still try to kiss you?" His voice was a low growl and his fingers were dangerously close to crushing hers with their firmly tightening grip.

He would know if she lied to him. "Sometimes." When she looked up, Jon's face was twisted into a mask of rage and there was fire in his suddenly black eyes. So there was something of the dragon in him. 

He leapt to his feet and started pacing, shoving a pile of scrolls off the table, making her flinch. "I will kill him. I swear it, one day I will kill him."

She wasn't quite sure how to feel about that vow. "But you can't," she reminded him, "not yet. You need him to get the Vale's support."

He gave her a reluctant nod. "Then what do you suggest we do?"

She wrung her hands together, staring at them as she bit her lip. "For now," she answered, looking up, "I think we should play along."

He walked over to her and dropped back down onto the settee. "You mean to say we should get married?"

She nodded. "As soon as Jon and Alayne are wed, you can take me away from here."

He arched an eyebrow. "Jon and Alayne, huh?"

"Sansa is still married to the Imp," she explained, "and Alayne doesn't exist, so it wouldn't be a real marriage."

He stared at her with a deep frown etched into his face, opening his mouth several times, but whatever it was he wished to say, he seemed to think better of it.

"I still can't believe you're really here," he said with a smile that lit up his face. "I thought you were dead, like all the others," he added in a whisper, his face falling again. 

They were silent for a while, and she wondered if he was also making himself sad with happy memories. 

"Well," he sighed, and she believed there was some relief in it. "This changes matters."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll be Queen in the North soon," he announced, "and Lady of Winterfell."

She smiled back at him. "I suppose people will call me that when I'm pretending to be your wife."

He shook his head. "That's not what I meant. Winterfell is yours, the North is yours. I have no right to either of them."

She put a hand on his arm. "Of course you do." He pulled away from her and she felt a sharp pang in her stomach.

"You don't understand."

"I do," she insisted.

"No, Sansa, you can't. You don't know the truth." He squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with one hand.

Oh, so you do know. "I can," she said firmly. "And I do."

"What?" he asked, lowering his hand as he looked up at her.

Her shoulders rose and fell. "I know who your mother was, Jon."

"How? How long have you known?"

She smoothed out her skirts. "The day before the feast." She lowered her head. "Lord Baelish told me." She almost expected him to be angry about that, and he probably should be. There was no telling what Petyr might use that secret for. But Jon only appeared more defeated to her. 

"Then you also know who my father was," he whispered roughly. He put his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. 

"I do," she confirmed. 

He twisted his neck to look at her. "And you don't hate me?"

Her brow furrowed. "Why would I?"

He came closer and covered her hand with his own, resting his forehead against hers and whispered, "Thank you, Sansa."

She thought that was rather silly of him, but she wouldn't tell him that. 

"Fa-your father lied to me all my life."

She pursed her lips. "He lied to us, too, and he lied to my lady mother."

He pulled away. "Aye, and she hated me because of his lies."

She couldn't deny that. She'd often taken her mother's side, too, unable to bear the pain in her face whenever she looked at Jon. If Catelyn Stark had known, would it have changed anything? "And what if we had known? Would we have lived our lives in fear that one day, the wrong person would overhear a conversation and find out? She might have resented you even more for that."

There was defiance in his eyes, but she knew he couldn't refute what she had said. 

"He should have told me at some point," he insisted stubbornly. Sansa could almost feel his pain. "He should have told me when he learned I wanted to join the Watch." His voice broke on the last word. 

She moved closer to him and held him as he tried to breathe through the sobs he wouldn't allow to come out. "I understand, Jon," she whispered after a long while. "You feel as if father has betrayed you, and let you down." She wished someone would have warned her, too, told her something to stop her from going to King's Landing. "But I'm sure Father was only trying to protect you."

"Then I'm afraid he failed me." He failed me, too. For such a long time, she had only blamed herself, but she could see that now. There was so much she needed to tell him, so much she needed him to tell her, but all of that could wait, until later.

Finally, Jon broke the silence. "You know they will all hate me once they find out who my real father was."

She didn't need to ask him who he was referring to. The entire North still loathed Rhaegar Targaryen for what he had done to Lyanna Stark. "You forget that you are your mother's son, as well, Jon. But we don't have to tell anyone, ever. I will keep your secret, I promise."

He disentangled himself from her embrace. "We do, Sansa. You may be able to keep such a secret, but I am not." That hurt, but she pushed the sting of it down, perhaps she deserved it.

"The truth must come out at some point," he continued. "And even if it's true that my mother was a Stark, Winterfell is still yours, not mine. The Stark name is yours, not mine."

An idea came to her then, or perhaps it had slowly started dawning on her from the moment Petyr had told her the truth, and it had just now drifted to the surface of her mind. "It could be ours."

He offered her a wistful smile. "Just because you say so doesn't make it so. It will always be yours, just yours."

She shook her head. "You don't understand, Jon. If Tyrion Lannister's death were to be confirmed, or if the High Septon granted us an annulment, Sansa could-- I mean, I could marry you, but truly this time, so you would be able to stay and keep the Stark name."

She couldn't decipher the look he was giving her, so she pushed her shoulders back and said, "It wasn't a lie. None of it was."

He tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows.

"The feast, the conversations we shared." She took a deep breath. "I'm not sure what it makes of me, but when I almost let you kiss me, it was not a lie;"

"I know what it makes me," he said darkly, "but it was real for me as well." He took her hand again. "As for the proposal you just made me," he added, his thumb brushing her knuckles, "we'll see about all of that when the time comes."

She leaned in and reached out to cup his cheek with her free hand, searching his eyes in the candlelight before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "We'll see," she agreed. 

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fic #jonsa ff #my writing

[somedayonbroadway]

I am literally begging you to tell me about the Psych AU???

(Just to be clear this will be set in the fantasy land where all cops are trying their best to be good all the time. Thank you!)

So Psych was actually probably my favorite show for a lot of my life so I am pretty excited about this one. For those of you that haven’t seen the show, go watch it. It’s on Peacock and I believe it’s still on Amazon Prime. Definitely it’s at its best in the first three seasons, but it never ceases to be funny. However, I enjoy the first season a lot more because of how smart they portray Shawn without having him also be, for lack of a better word, an idiot. Shawn is incredibly smart and his humor and charisma highlighted that instead of hiding it and I miss that in the later seasons, but it is still a really funny show and I do recommend it.

Anyways, enough of me ranting.

Just to be clear, it could work with either Jack or Race as Shawn, and if you would like to see this AU the other way, just let me know!

Psych AU

Characters

Racetrack Higgins — Shawn Spencer

Albert DaSilva — Burton Guster

Jack Kelly — Henry Spencer

Spot Conlon — Juliet O’Hara

David Jacobs — Carlton Lassiter

Medda Larkin — Chief Karen Vick

Racetrack Higgins (Shawn Spencer)

Tyler James Kelly had never had an easy life, with his drunk father or absent mother who had him on accident with a man she barely knew

His father had named him Anthony Higgins

When he’s six all of that changes when his half brother takes him in, against his father’s wishes.

Jack renames him Tyler James Kelly.

Race didn’t know Jack all too well back then. But he looked up to him, even if he’d refuse to admit it later.

Jack is eighteen and just starting out as a beat cop. But Jack’s father had been training him to be a good cop his whole life. Right up till he died.

Race never knew what a parent was supposed to look like. So when Jack began to test and train him, he didn’t think anything of it.

Race has a eidetic memory and Jack knows it even if his baby brother refuses to acknowledge it

The kid is hyper observant and quick witted which often can lead him into trouble though he describes it as being useful stay one step ahead intellectually while being one step behind physically

Was born two months too early and has always been pretty thin and small

Loves classic movies and television shows and often references them

Is wickedly smart and clever, resulting in him graduating high school three years early and leaving New York to travel the country

Growing up he’s best friends with his next door neighbor, Albert DaSilva, who he relies on constantly as he has a fear of abandonment

While growing up with Jack, Race finds himself somewhat resenting his brother who constantly pushes him to be more and do more and get better. He explains that Jack never let him just be a kid, and never lets Jack explain why he has him memorize how many hats are in the room and learn how killers and criminals operate

When he’s fifteen he takes the detective’s exam and gets a perfect score but refuses to go into law enforcement, instead chooses to leave Jack behind, illegally, and travel around the country on a bike he wins in a poker game with a bunch of old men who think he’s no threat.

When he’s eighteen, he inevitably ends up back in Manhattan.

After not speaking with Jack for three years, he has no idea if he’s still even there and is terrified to face him, feeling bad about running away and not knowing if Jack will forgive him.

He gets his own apartment, taking odd jobs around town to make ends meet

He starts going by Anthony Higgins again, but most of his friends just call him Race, a nickname he got from Albert when they were very young

Albert is the only one who knows when Race is back in town and Race makes him swear not to tell Jack.

Race often spends his nights watching the news, calling in tips to the police whenever he figures out a crime that they can’t.

Eventually this leads him to getting arrested before he even turns nineteen, as the police suspect he’s an inside man

In order to get out of this, he tells a lie that he believes will be a one time thing.

He makes the cops believe he is psychic.

Things spiral out of control from there.

After making the majority of the station believe he has the gift (all except for one skeptic who happens to be head detective) he thinks they’re going to let him off the hook.

He has no idea the chief of police is going to ask for his help

Actually excited by the idea, Race runs to Albert’s school and begs him to help him out. Albert is reluctant at first but eventually agrees

Race and Al go out investigating as private detectives until Race figures out the case, leading them straight to the suspect who turns out to be dead.

With nowhere else to turn, Race goes back to his brother, a brilliant detective who got injured in the line of duty and retired early, for help

Jack isn’t even shocked to see him. He’s not surprised, he’s not happy and he’s not angry. It makes Race mad.

Jack takes Race out to lunch where he lets Race talk and tells him that he’s the ultimate disappointment because Jack told Race all growing up how much he hated private detectives and psychics. But ultimately, he helps Race out anyway

This leads to Race solving the case and getting recognition for it. Jack keeps his secret and is even secretly proud of him

The happiness he feels at that convinces Race to open up his own agency with Albert

Throughout their journey as detectives, Race ends up falling for a junior detective, a transfer from Brooklyn who is a partner to the skeptic head detective, David Jacob, his brother’s former partner and best friend.

Spot, the Junior detective, often flirts with Race and leads him on, but they don’t start a relationship until five years later.

Race is faced with countless situations where he becomes a target for serial killers and criminals who come after his and his friends and family.

Race gets shot and kidnapped at one point.

He and Albert get held captive constantly and The Yin Yang killer, a serial killer who had been messing with the department for years, takes a special interest in him, causing his current boyfriend to be nearly drowned, Spot to be nearly dropped from a clock tower, Jack to be nearly blown up and he and Albert to be nearly poisoned.

Despite only telling this lie to get out of going to jail for a crime he did not commit, he ends up sticking with it and finding his purpose in life was to help others instead of help himself and loves it

Albert DaSilva (Bruton Gaster)

Grows up with a good life.

His mother died when he was really young, not even a year old, and he lived with his father and two much older brothers who spoiled him and loved him.

Albert was always smart. He was always smart in different ways than Race was and enjoyed learning and gaining better understandings of things

When he was young, he wanted to become an astronomer. He always loved the planets and the stars.

While being academically advanced, he knew that graduating with Race was not the best option for him as he used to doubt himself when Race wasn’t around to tell him how much he needed him

As a child he applied for a school for advanced students, which he was accepted into. His father refused to send him on account of wanting him to be a kid which Albert never truly liked being

His father never did appreciate the influence that Race had on his son, but allowed it in order to let Albert be a kid because he knew Albert needed it

Albert loved academic activities growing up and had nearly won a national spelling bee that Race botched for him. After learning this, Albert is angry with Race and realizes his friend’s need for him as Race eventually admits he was scared his only friend was going to leave him

Albert is very independent and enjoys doing things on his own, much to Race’s dismay

Al was voted most likely to succeed in high school

When Race runs away, Albert knows about it and tries to stop him, but believes Race will get nervous and come back

When that doesn’t happen, Albert is too embarrassed and scared to tell anyone so he lets Race go, feeling abandonment for the first and possibly only time in his life and he’s always secretly a little angry with Race for leaving

Albert goes to college right out of high school and studied medicine, wanting to become a doctor

When Race comes back into town, he ends up missing a lot of classes and barely manages to stay ahead in school

He still works towards becoming a doctor, which often helps with solving crimes

After finding out he does not like the sight of blood and dead bodies, he switches to forensics which also helps with a lot of investigations

Albert’s oldest brother is a rocket scientist at NASA and his other brother is an engineer

He constantly feels as though he’s trying to catch up and be just as accomplished as his brothers

Albert was pep captain in high school in attempts to be popular. While he did have more friends than Race, he didn’t accomplish actually being popular, but hanging around so many girls turned him into somewhat of a ladies man

During his senior year spring break, Albert, who’s already eighteen, heads down to Mexico with some friends but ends up meeting a girl. He gets drunk and marries her before leaving and never speaking of it again, not seeing the girl until years later when she is getting remarried.

After helping Race on his first case, Albert finds he had a knack for assisting his friend in crime fighting and, though often gives Race a hard time about it and complains, genuinely enjoys helping

Is very protective of his car that his father pays for, affectionately named the Blueberry by Race who picks up the name from a stuck up client

Albert knows Race better than Race knows himself and is sometimes the only thing actually keeping him from chaotically causing his own accidental death, despite Jack’s best efforts.

He has a very refined sense of smell

Grew up catholic and believes in demonic possessions and exorcisms

In an attempt to be cool when he was younger, Albert learned how to pick locks and crack safes

Is often given ridiculous nicknames by his best friend while they’re out solving cases, just for fun. He just rolls with them typically.

He joined an a capella group in college because he knew how to sing and was curious as to what it would be like. Race always finds it entertaining.

Is an experienced tap dancer

Has trouble doing things that are more on the dangerous side while Race doesn’t mind jumping in head first just to see what will happen.

Albert’s father is very protective of him and, even when he’s being accused of murder, tries to constantly give Race money and have someone babysit and take care of him.

It isn’t until Race sets the record straight that Albert’s dad begins to trust him to take care of Al moving forward.

Albert is the only person Jack trusts with Race for a long time as Race had a history with bullies all growing up and never really wanted any other friends.

Albert becomes like another little brother to Jack and Jack teaches him some street smarts to get him by after Race runs away.

Albert helps take care of Jack after his career ending injury

Albert eventually becomes a forensic scientist and ends up working for the FBI

Jack Kelly (Henry Spencer)

A trouble maker when he was young, the only child of his father, James Francis Kelly Sr. and first born of his mother

When Jack is fifteen his father dies, murdered by a criminal who’d been out on a killing spree.

His father had always wanted Jack to follow in his footsteps and become an officer so, to honor him, Jack does

When Jack was twelve, his mother had had another baby. Jack did not know a lot about this, but after his father died, became very curious.

When asked about the baby, his mother got defensive, so he tracked the kid down on his own, finding him in a neglective home and immediately falling in love with the kid and wanting to protect him.

Although he often shows Race tough love, he genuinely makes it his life goal to keep the boy safe and protected

He renamed Anthony Higgins, Tyler James Kelly, because Anthony was originally named after his father, the man who almost never acknowledged that the kid existed and Jack didn’t want him walking around with that.

Even after Race starts introducing himself as Anthony again, he still calls Race Tyler and Tyler James and his little Tyler James because that’s still Race’s legal name

Jack is a bit of a troubled kid growing up.

He has ADHD

His father helped him channel that into being hyper observant and alert

His mother was a bit of a deadbeat, but Jack still loved her up until she died from lung cancer. He didn’t trust her to look after Race once, instead hiring experienced babysitters and sometimes even taking Race into work with him and having another officer watch him

When he first meets Race, he quickly picks up on the fact that the kid is special and had extraordinary talents and he wants to help Race use them in the best way

Jack is a very protective person, though he normally comes off as slightly intimidating stand-off-ish. He is genuinely friendly and actually is the inspiration behind Race’s sense of humor

Jack raises Race to be the perfect detective, believing he was doing this for Race’s own good as Jack himself is terrified of losing someone else, especially his baby boy who he finds he loves more than anyone else in the world.

While Jack was a bit of a prankster and a fighter growing up, his father explained to him that this was a good thing and would help Jack in the future as he knew how criminals could think

Jack is an artist and loves to paint and draw. It’s his most peaceful activity

He once arrested Race when he was fifteen for “borrowing” a car to impress a girl with Race later reveals he only did to keep the football team from finding out that he was gay

He moves up in the police force quickly, becoming the youngest head detective the department had

He is partnered with David Jacobs who quickly becomes his best friend and eventually replaced Jack as the head detective.

When Race runs away Jack is extremely hurt and goes through a small depression that ultimately makes him lose his focus and gets him into a bad car crash, ending his career as a detective

His knee is shattered and he can’t run as easily as he used to be able to.

Refuses help most of the time and locks himself away from the world until Albert comes knocking on his door

He lets the kid help him out

It is eventually revealed that Jack put a gps tracker in the dog tags that had been his father’s. He’d given them to Race because he convinced the kid they’d keep him safe. He knows where Race is at all times

This is why he’s not surprised when Race is back in town and this is how Jack continues to be able to find Race when Race is in trouble.

When Race is shot and kidnapped, his drops the dog tags and Jack panics because he’s never not been able to find Race and when he does eventually find him, he puts the dog tags back around his neck and yells at Race to never take them off again

That’s when Race finds out what Jack did

Jack is Race’s biggest critic and biggest supporter all rolled up into one

While he never truly approves of what Race is doing, he still does his best to help him and protect him as best he can and is always proud of him no matter what he does.

During his time in recovery, Jack sells paints and works on commission, starting his own arti website and becoming a fairly famous artist

When the Yin Yang killer returns to New York, it is revealed that Jack worked the case before but had not been the target of the serial killer.

He is kidnapped by Yang who knows somehow that he’d be unable to run and slightly traumatized him, placing him in a car at a drive in movie with a bomb in his lap

Though he tries to convince everyone that he’s not scared, Race ends up staying with him to comfort him through the nightmares.

After Yin and Yang strikes again, making it even clearer that it’s Racer he’s messing with, Jack accepts a job from the chief of police as a police liaison in attempts to keep Race safe

A few years later, another old case of his comes up and he realizes that the cops who trained him and worked with him were dirty and tampered with his evidence.

He is later shot point blank by one of his old partners and left for dead, but Race, who had followed him, manages to take him to a hospital, saving his life though it was a very close call

After all of this, Jack eventually retires from the police department, no longer respecting the badge as he’d used to and becomes a professor of criminology at the same college Albert attended where he meets Katherine, his future wife

Spot Conlon (Juliet O’Hara)

Sean “Spot” Conlon grew up being around cops a lot.

His father was a crook.

While he knew his father loved him, he also knew that his father was a conman and what he did was wrong.

Growing up, Spot would wake up to receive little gifts on his nightstand and eventually he figured out that his father had been breaking in to leave them for him, taking the window apart and putting it back together without a trace.

Spot loves his father but moves on and grows up to become a cop to stop people like his father from taking advantage of others

He has one older brother, Hot Shot, who is also a criminal, though he is a criminal in the name of the Army which he was trying to protect

Spot does have to arrest his brother but is not shocked to find that his brother escaped

Spot does have a younger brother, Charlie or Crutchie as he’s called by his brother, who he loves very much and tries to preserve as the kid is the only member of his family who is remotely innocent.

Crutchie eventually moves from Brooklyn to Manhattan to be closer to Spot and meets Spot’s friends who he adores.

Charlie is the one who reveals that Jack was one of Spot’s idols. Spot looked up to Jack because Jack was one of the youngest head detectives in the country and was an overall brilliant detective

Spot first meets Race while undercover. The conversation only lasts a few minutes before Race deducts that he is in fact a cop about to make a jump on someone.

Wary of Race at first, Spot keeps his distance. He is skeptical of Race’s “gift” buy after observing him behind to believe his abilities may be real

Upon his transfer to Manhattan to become a detective, Spot is partnered up with Jack Kelly’s old partner David, who is very stand-off-ish and mean at first

Spot and David begin to build a relationship based on trust and become like brothers after a long while

Originally, Spot is not taken very seriously as he’s very young and cares about how he looks. Many of the other cops make fun of him, calling him “pretty boy” and other derogatory names because they all know that he’s gay

David often sticks up for him but doesn’t let Spot thank him.

Spot eventually starts calling Race “pretty boy” as a means to give the words good meaning again

Spot is very good at going undercover for jobs and enjoys getting to be placed in different roles.

Race often tells him that if he hadn’t been a coo he would’ve been a hell of an actor but Spot doesn’t like that because he fears he’s becoming too much like his father

Spot is desperate to succeed in his work and often goes to Jack for advice (I know, they like each other in this one. It’s crazy)

Spot is very competitive and likes to be right.

He often brags about solving cases before others but does not put others down, necessarily, in the process

Though Spot is a bit on the shorter side, he makes up for it with muscle and strength.

When he gets angry, people back off, afraid of what he might do if he decides to take his anger out on them.

Spot is fluent in Spanish, just like Jack, and after Race and he start dating, they often have conversations about Race right in front of him.

After getting kidnapped by Yin, Spot is traumatized to the point of being unable to stay at the station.

He develops a paralyzing fear of heights that’s Race helps him through

Eventually, Spot becomes the head detective in Brooklyn when the chief is transferred there.

David Jacobs (Lassie Face)

David had always had a difficult time with trust

He grew up with a twin sister and a little brother.

His father cheated on their mother and his mother cheated on his father

His sister grew up and left without telling anyone.

His ex wife had cheated on him and left him

Suffice to say that trust didn’t come easy to him.

Growing up, Davey likes the rules and he likes enforcing them. He likes being in charge and he’s good at it.

David loves his younger brother a lot. Les is going to school for film and he loves getting insight about what police actually do. He likes to make documentaries

When David is partnered with the head detective, he’s shocked to find he actually likes Jack

Jack is the first person he truly trusts in a long long time

Jack becomes his best friend and only confidant

As he’s close with Jack, he does meet Race a few times, but when he questions Race about his tips under his old name, he doesn’t know why Race looks so familiar

It isn’t until David sees Race with Jack that he remembers.

Jack lies to David and tells him that Race is a psychic and found out when he was fifteen and that’s why he left even though he knows Davey won’t believe him

David understands and respects that Jack puts his little brother first

But the kid still annoys him

Despite not necessarily getting along with Race, David does everything he can to protect him as a ways to pay Jack back for all the times he’d saved his life

When Jack gets in his accident, David refuses another partner, nervous about not living up to Jack’s reputation.

His first new partner ends up being a girlfriend of his during his separation from his wife. Race outs the affair on accident and the woman is transferred

David and Spot don’t get along at first but Spot quickly shows David that he’s not any junior detective and is really good at what he does

He ends up really liking the kid

After Jack’s accident, David has a hard time going to see him, feeling as though he’d failed the other man somehow.

Eventually, he takes Jack out for a drink where Jack apologizes for screwing up and they have a bonding moment

Eventually, David finds himself infatuated with a suspect in a case he’s working

Though the girl is ultimately guilty, he visits her in prison and eventually marries her

His whole life all he’d wanted was to be the chief of police

Eventually, after Chief Larkin is transferred, his dream comes true.

He and Race manage to become friends and, after receiving a video message from Race, confessing to the fact that he’s not a psychic, he tears the disc out and breaks it, never needing to know how Race did what he did

I absolutely love this one, so if ya’ll wanna see any scenes from it, just let me know!

For more Mood Boards and AUs, click here!

#panpervinca #newsies #newsies live #newsies musical #newsies au #newsies rp #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #david jacobs #spot conlon #albert dasilva #medda larkin #crutchie morris #hot shot #les jacobs #sarah jacobs #psych #psych au #fake psychic #psychic detective #detective #modern au #modern era #angst #hurt/comfort #much love

[kadeu]

Accepted — Meredith Anne Robin

◆  Meredith Anne Robin aka. Eclipse looks like Katie McGrath (Actor) ◆  She was born November 2nd, 1939 ; making her 81 but she appears 34   ◆  This Water Elemental is Pansexual and an Ace of Diamonds ◆  She is the Hydrokinetic Combat Instructor at the Acadamy, Director of Research and Development at Aster Stone, and an Anonymous Rebel Backer

Biography

The odds had been stacked in Meredith’s favor years before she had been born. Her parents were King and Queen ranked, with the mother standing to inherit her family’s company in crystal manufacturing, Aster Stone, and the father coming from a legacy of stage performers. The marriage came at the height of their careers and seemed to be a natural match that only the births of their two children could perfect. Anyone watching would see nothing but a loving and fortunate family. None could know it had all been carefully planned for the sole purpose of profit and prestige.

The little Robins grew up blissfully ignorant of the world that watched them through a semi-public eye. Their father had liked to take them to The Palace for his premieres, and they would have a nice story for the papers afterward. It wouldn’t be until adulthood when she realized she had been more like a prop then, rather than a child being doted on. But Meredith had enjoyed those nights where she and her brother would sit in a top box and watch the performances, though she did occasionally wonder whether the show was better on the floor with everyone else. Why else would all of them choose to be down there instead of up here?

As they aged, the importance of their capabilities began to take priority. Their toys were traded for tutors and their nights at The Palace were preceded with sparring matches. An immense amount of potential was expected from the siblings and their mother was a firm believer in beginning training as soon as they showed signs of magic. Aster Stone employed some of the higher ranking Academy students, and she urged her children to practice their abilities against them for private exercises. Any failures were met with an assertion that they could have done better, no matter the circumstances. Nothing could be a blemish on their reputation.

If Meredith had been alone, she would not have chosen to comply with her parents’ wishes as eagerly as she had done. It was the pride in their voices when they spoke of her brother that she wanted. She had tried her best to keep up with her brother in every aspect but had trailed behind him since she could crawl. Even with the notable improvements she had made, they were expecting more. When their pushing became too great, and she began to think of running away, it was his insistence that made her stay. They had started this together and were going to finish it together.

But he left on his fifteenth birthday. She had gone into his room to wake him for breakfast and his bed was empty. All she had been told was that he had left, that others had convinced him to leave, and finally that he had died. Meredith was almost insulted that they thought she would believe he would run when he had told her to stay, but there was little she could do other than shoulder the brunt of his absence and continue forward. It was a mystery that she was unable to get a straight answer about for nearly fifty years.  

With their son gone, the Robins turned their focus on their daughter to ensure her success in his place. In the time after her brother’s disappearance, Meredith had come to think of it as a mixed blessing. Their mother had taken the instruction drills into her own hands and refused to hold back as the tutors had before. She had become relentless and unforgiving but the father had doubled his attention. She felt as if she was being strangled by one parent and suffocated by the other.

Her moment of reprieve came with the ranking on her fifteenth birthday; a 9. Her parents finally had the proof of her capacity, but it did not stop them from continuing to push her further. It was at this time that the reason for their marriage was revealed to her. Their families had traced through bloodlines to find a minuscule percentage of royal ancestry and had convinced them to accept an arranged marriage in exchange for social favoritism. Her existence was an experiment, and she needed to prove successful.

When it came time to join the Academy, Meredith completed her beginners courses with ease. She had already been fighting at that level for a few years and her confidence soared knowing that she was above the average, even with rank aside. It was now validation for herself to know that her strict childhood had been purposeful, though she was reluctant to admit this to her parents even years later when they continued to ask why she insisted on taking every class possible.

She had tasted freedom and loathed the moments at home. Now she had her parents’ adoration, but it felt hollow when it all revolved around how they had made her successful. She hated that they now bragged as if they had been the ones to struggle through the training and impress her professors. So, rather than subject herself to listening to their empty flattery and forcing a smile, she frequently chose to stay at the school on their coin instead whenever she could.

The promotion to 10 came quicker than most expected. Her instructors were thrilled with her proficiency and tenacity in skirmishes, but this brought negative attention from her classmates. She struggled to make friends that lasted after they had fulfilled their ambitions, though there were many more who were openly averse to her presence as she reached the advanced levels within the Academy. At the end of it all, she preferred these types of people; they were easier to identify and eliminate in competition.

With the J, came her first real attempts for freedom. She had proven herself capable of holding her own and after it was agreed there was nothing more for her to learn at the Academy, she was left with a choice of what to do next and how to keep climbing. Her father offered to use his influence within The Palace to find her a position on the stage, but she reasoned that a life outside the public eye would be easier in the long run. Instead, she became friendly with her mother and returned to Aster Stone as an executive, instead of a test subject.

After a while, Meredith landed her place as Director of Research and Development, and her K. Crystals remained unchanged over the centuries, but it was now her job to find new uses for them. Or rather, to oversee the other inventors’ work on their ideas. She was more interested in the testing of these new devices, particularly those with combat purposes. The Council had been pressuring the advancement of weaponry, and they were expecting her to provide something to keep Diamonds ahead of the other factions.

Her favorite piece was one yet to be used in battle, but it ultimately earned her A. As impressive as the testing results had been, there were not many who seemed enthusiastic to try it for themselves and it landed on her to prove its capability. Manacores were known to be amplified in the presence of crystals and for centuries they have been used in the forms of jewelry, adornments on clothing, or embedded into weapons. Meredith dared to take it a step further and explore the benefits of crystalline sub dermal implants directly into the body itself. Admittedly, the process was intimidating.

She came out of the surgery with minimal complications, aside from the minor infections at the incisions resulting in raised scarring, and the endeavor was overall considered a success. Her strength had been admirable before the procedure, but it had increased significantly afterward. The Council was thrilled with their creation and her mother was given a substantial payment for production, but Meredith had received the ultimate prize in the end; a level of status and power beyond anything her parents could have ever given her.

The Dean of the Academy convinced her to take a teaching position within the school, specializing in her water elementalist techniques. She would be able to push the limits further and hand-pick those that succeed to move forward for advancement. It did not take long for her to draw criticism after taking interest in those who were ‘below’ the privilege she had been granting them. Nothing was more frustrating to her than being challenged to find the talent within the trash, then being denied the recognition of her findings because they are not ranked ‘high enough’.

It became her personal mission to go against the idea of a person’s potential based on their ranking, despite the grumblings from the Academy and other Aces. Nearly every student she nominated was received with a lengthy debate and over the years the opposition against her choices became more of a formality than a true dissent. Whether it was due to her own stubbornness or the results of her gambles proving themselves to be worthwhile, she wasn’t sure, but the questioning subsided, and she seemed to have earned the respect of her peers.

The sudden death of her mother threatened to change that, however. It was reported as an accident, an unfortunate carriage collision happening on a rainy day, coincidentally the same afternoon she was set to announce her retirement. Meredith’s grief was unanticipated, considering their difficult relationship, but it was her father’s resolute calmness that surprised her. Others believed he was putting on a brave face, after losing his son long ago and now his wife, but she knew when he was acting; this coldness was the truth.

With the mother gone, the father laid bare all their sins. He reiterated that they had been an arranged marriage as an experiment and that she and her brother were the results, ones that they had to ensure were successful. He explained that in the early hours of her brother’s fifteenth birthday, his ranking was significantly less than what they had expected. The two parents fought, and the mother let slip that she had had an affair shortly after the wedding with the man she truly loved, became pregnant, and passed off the son as a Robin. She was his only child.

Naturally, he was furious, and banished the boy to his ‘true home’ and forbade the mother from speaking of it again before they fabricated a story of their sons radicalization and disappearance. He had not asked his wife for details then and therefore, did not have any answers for Meredith as to where her brother may have gone. He even went so far as to imply that if he were to see him again, he would likely ‘kill the bastard’. Hearing her father’s open rejection of her brother only made her want to start searching and to use his money to do it.

First, majority control of Aster Stone was given over to the Board of Directors after Meredith had secured her mother’s posthumous salary for herself. It was not difficult, considering it was her own developments that had landed their most lucrative contract. The next, and most difficult step, was to find her way into the rebel communication lines and gain enough trust to be able to ask around without raising suspicions. Then, should she find something promising, there was still the matter of proving his identity somehow.

For now, Meredith continues her day job in the Academy as the Hydrokinetic Combat Instructor, a member of the Council, and occasionally sits at the table of Directors for Aster Stone. She uses her position to guide the future of Diamond Territory with every generation of students that passes through her curriculum successfully. She enjoys the benefits of her rank openly, and can frequently be seen in the Palace or a nightclub before heading home. There, she investigates her leads and waits for her opportunity to leave everyone in the dark.

Personality

Meredith is surprisingly polite for someone of her rank. She finds it easier to let the other think everything is their idea and to ‘firmly guide’ the situation to her favor. Those that are willing to please her to begin with don’t typically argue against her suggestions for long. She can be patient and enjoys frustrating her opponent into submission. She is intelligent, and intuitively knows what others need to feel accepted and comfortable. Do not mistake her charm and kindness for naivety. Not many are successful in their attempts to take advantage of her; the only exceptions being those she loves dearly.

Should she be challenged and find her adversary as stubborn as herself, she takes it as a personal offense to her own credibility. She can be vengeful and unforgiving, holding onto grudges for long after the matter had been settled. Her enemies are either ignored or obsessed over, there is no in-between for Meredith. In an outright fight, she will always attempt to subdue her rival before moving to the maneuvers meant to overwhelm and destroy.

Those who only know her in passing or as an acquaintance would never see her falter in her decisions. Those doubts were saved for those she held in the upmost respect or loved intimately. She has the fullest trust and faith in these people, earning them her steadfast loyalty and affection. In moments of insecurity, she may become suspicious or possessive of her lover and begin to cling to them for comfort.  She feels her emotions deeply and does her best not to let them dictate her actions, oftentimes choosing to react wholly one way or another.

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[demiboydemon]

Keitor Month Day Ten: Soulmates

It was supposed to be simple, really. Axca would turn off the alarms while Lotor snuck into the prison and found intel about the champion. Was he going to be a weapon for the empire? Would it be easier to kill him before they had the chance to turn him into a super weapon? Or could Lotor use him for his own gain? 

He hoped all of these answers would be answered for him when he found data in the prison logs. All he had to do was to follow the map Narti had made for him, then he could take the information and flee without anyone being the wiser to him being there in the first place. 

The plan went awry when Lotor found the champion along the way and decided to snoop. He hid behind a crate and watched the prisoners.  More under the cut because this one is fairly long.

When Lotor saw him, he was thoroughly underwhelmed. He was in a cell with two other prisoners, the two of whom bore a familial resemblance. True to the image Narti had procured before the mission, the champion had a white streak in his hair. When he turned, Lotor could see his robotic arm. 

'That must be him,' Lotor thought, thinking back to Narti's image, 'The Champion.' 

The robotic arm could work well in a fight, but the champion didn't look all too strong or powerful otherwise. Lotor examined the others in the cell. 

The younger one was walking back and forth in some sort of fit, and the eldest of them was writing on the walls with a primitive writing device. 

"Those symbols..." Lotor whispered to himself. He couldn't see his soulmark through his armor, but he didn't need to. He had spent enough time gazing at it to be able to recognize it anywhere. "They're the same as mine."

Millions of thoughts flooded Lotor's brain all at once. If that was the same language, then that implied that the prisoners were from the same planet as his soulmate. Which meant maybe they could help him find them. Even if they couldn't, at least Lotor would know their name. That was a better starting point than not knowing anything. 

All logic flew out the window as Lotor rushed over to the prisoners, discarding his arm plate onto the ground beside him. 

"Who the hell are you?" The brown haired man asked him once he reached the cell.

Lotor didn't answer. He thrusted his arm toward the prisoners. "My soulmark. What does it say."

"Your soulmark?" The champion asked. "How would we know?"

Lotor looked from side to side, praying that no guards would come in before he had gotten the information he needed.  "This is your language, no? What does it say?"

Neither of the young men answered him, seemingly in shock from his attention. The older man was staring at Lotor in defiance.

"I'm in a bit of a rush here," Lotor said in agitated tone, "So if someone could just tell me what my soulmark says, I could leave this wretched place and go on my way."

The young brown haired man looked at Lotor's arm. "No way. Keith?"

"Keith?" The champion and the old man said at the same time.

"Like, Shiro's Keith?" The old man asked, rushing over to see the soulmark. 

The brown haired man nodded. "Yeah! Keith Kogane."

"You're kidding me," The champion groaned.

"Keith Kogane," Lotor said, feeling very pleased to finally know his soulmate's name, regardless of the prisoners' unexpected reaction. "Thank you all for your assistance. I'd best be on my way before Haggar notices I'm here. Axca can only keep the alarms off so long without the guards noticing."

Lotor put his arm plate back on and began to walk toward the logs, but was stopped by the champion shouting at him. "You're my brother's soulmate? You?!"

Lotor stopped in his tracks. He turned around and walked back over to the cell. "Keith Kogane is your brother? As in, you and he are of the same blood?"

"Yeah. We're adopted brothers," The champion confirmed. 

Lotor sighed and pulled out his sword. The champion's arm glowed violet as he pushed the other prisoners behind him. His mouth split into a scowl. 

"Calm down," Lotor said, "It is not my intention to fight you."

"Then why'd you pull out your swo-"

Lotor didn't hear what the champion said next over the sound of his sword slicing through the lock.

"I can't leave my soulmate's kin in my father's prison and expect to gain his affection." 

"Your fath- Zarkon has a son?" The brown haired man asked, "Who the fuck had sex with that guy?"

The eldest man frowned at him. "Matt, language."

"My language is what you're upset about? Not the fact that someone was enough of a scaley to screw the lizard king? Someone hot enough to produce this hunk of man?" The brown haired man, Matt, Lotor assumed, gestured to Lotor's body, then to his face. 

Lotor began to feel both flattered and objectified, which was a rarity for him. He wasn't exactly the spitting image of Galran beauty, and the Alteans had gone extinct during the war. 

"When I pull the door off of its hinges," Lotor explained to the group of prisoners, "An alarm will sound. When this happens, it is very important that you three follow me to my ship and board without resistance. Aboard the ship will be my generals. They will not be pleased that I've taken you, but they will not harm you without my permission. Understand?"

The group nodded and muttered various terms of understanding. Lotor pulled the door off the cell and gestured for the prisoners to leave.

"Hot damn," Matt said as they ran behind Lotor to escape. "That was cool how you ripped that door out of the wall."

"Thank you." Lotor responded, turning a sharp corner.

"And you're so tall. How tall are you?"

"I'm actually very short for a Galra. I'm about 215.9 Centimeters, 218 if you count my boots."

"Your boots, haha. You're sooooo funny."

A pack of sentries ran toward them. Lotor sliced them down with his sword and kept running. 

"Matt!" The champion called out with a hint of aggravation in his voice, "Stop flirting with Keith's soulmate!" 

"If he liked him, he should've put a ring on it!"

"They haven't even met yet!"

"Exactly! It's fair game."

"Matt, I swear, I will-"

"I've been in space for over a year, Shiro. I'm super horny. You can't blame me for trying to get some action with this purple fox."

"He's my brother's soulmate!"

"Keith couldn't possibly blame me for trying to get with this babe magne-"

"Boys," The eldest man scolded, "We don't have time to argue right now, we are running for our lives."

"Sorry, Dad."

"Sorry, Sam."

They reached Lotor's ship without too much of a hitch, unless you count two fighting yuppers, a swarm of sentries, and sixteen yelmors, but Lotor didn't. 

He only allowed himself to relax once they were a full star system away from the prison. 

"Excellent work," he said to his generals. 

"Can't say the same for you," Ezor laughed, "You go in for intel on the Champion and come out with three prisoners. I guess none of us are great at following orders, huh?"

"You're still trying to get me to forgive you for kidnapping that Arusian as a pet, aren't you?" Lotor sighed. 

Ezor shrugged. "How was I supposed to know he was a person and not a little animal?"

Lotor was grateful when Axca changed the subject. "Where are the prisoners now?"

"I put them in Lotor's room," Zethrid said much to Lotor's chagrin. 

"Why in Sa's name would you do that?"

"Because that's what happens when you bring three prisoners onto a ship and say they're 'guests' and we can't put them in the dungeon."

"Fair enough."

Lotor walked into his room to find the champion pacing around in circles, Matt sitting on Lotor's bed, and Sam rifling through Lotor's bookshelf.

"I'm telling you," The champion said, "This guy's bad news. The son of Zarkon? Why haven't we heard of him?"

"My father is not fond of me," Lotor answered, watching the champion jump in surprise. "His paternal instincts died the moment my mother Honerva did."

"Your mother was Honerva?" Sam asked. 

"You know of her?"

"Who's that?" Matt asked.

"She conducted the first experiments on the effects of quintessence. They told me about her in the work camp."

Lotor nodded. "Yes, Honerva was indeed my mother. Speaking of kin-" Lotor held his hand out for the champion to shake. "I believe you and I haven't been formerly introduced. My apologies for not properly greeting my soulmate's family. I am Prince Lotor. It's an honor to meet you, Champion."

The champion declined the handshake, scowling at Lotor with concern and distrust. "It's Shiro, not Champion."

"Shiro, then." Lotor said. He was beginning to grow irritated, but didn't want to give the champion- 

'No,' Lotor internally corrected himself, 'Shiro.'

He didn't want to give Shiro a negative first impression.

Once Lotor's handshake was finally accepted, albeit with reluctance, Lotor finally greeted the other humans. 

"Matt and Sam, I assume," Lotor said. 

The humans nodded. "Yep, that's us."

Lotor sat at his chair next to the bookshelf. He looked over at Shiro, who Lotor was sad to say didn't seem very fond of him. 

"Earth has an advanced army," Shiro finally said after many moment of uncomfortable silence, "You won't be able to conquer the planet."

Lotor frowned. "Conquer your planet? Is that what you think of me?"

"Well, duh," Matt said, now burrowed into Lotor's blankets. "Your dad, Zarkon-"

Lotor stood abruptly, hoping this action would placate his anger. He had freed these humans from the arena, he had given them clothes, he had said nothing as they rummaged through his bed and bookshelf. Yet they still thought he was set out to conquer Earth. 

He had to remind himself that these humans had been though a lot during their captivity and it would likely take more than simple courtesies to make them feel safe.

"I am not my father." Lotor said firmly, "I am not in desire of your insignificant planet. Although I do wonder why no one came looking for you if your armies are so advanced, it is obviously not something you are prepared to answer."

"Then... why did you save us?" 

"My intentions have been very clear since the beginning. I have not lied to you. I am bringing you to Earth as a show of peace to Keith. Once he sees that I have rescued his brother and assorted others, I will tell him that we are soulmates. Unless you don't approve. I wouldn't want to anger his family." Lotor added. This part was a lie, but Lotor felt like adding it would help Shiro feel better about the situation. In truth, Lotor would go through with this plan regardless. 

Luckily, Shiro seemed to both believe him and finally approve of him as Keith's soulmate. 

They arrived in Earth's atmosphere after a few days of travel, during which Lotor was pleased to say he, his generals, and the humans bonded considerably. 

Once they arrived in Earth's sky, Lotor wasted no time in opening a channel to the Galaxy Garrison. 

"That's where Keith is," Shiro had told him, "And it's the main military base in North America, plus where Sam, Matt, and I work."

"How convenient," Lotor had responded, to which Axca had jokingly smacked him. 

"Narti, please open a channel to the Galaxy Garrison's strategy planning hall. No doubt they'll be there with the giant alien warship in their sky." 

Lotor watched as a holoscreen popped up and began to show an image of a room filled with people in uniforms sitting at a long table. 

"I say we fire at it with all we've got," One of the officials said.

"Let's send out the fighter jets," Another suggested. 

"Let's- holy shit!" The official pointed to Lotor. "The alien's on the screen!" 

"Human Commanders," Lotor said to the room of people. "I am Prince Lotor of the Galra Empire, heir to the throne, son of Empress Honerva and Emperor Zarkon."

One of the officials, one with a missing eye, stood and addressed Lotor. "What do you want with Earth?" 

Lotor heard Ezor make a 'tsk tsk tsk' sound behind him. "No manners, these humans." Lotor ignored her. 

"I believe you lost some men in space about one decapheobe ago?" Lotor asked.

"It was a pilot error."

"It is in your best interest not to lie to me," Lotor said. Upon seeing the panicked looked on the officials' faces, he added, "That is not a threat, simply a word of advice. Because I have your humans."

"I love a good dramatic entry," Sam said, leading the humans into the room. 

"Shirogane? Holt?" The man with one eye exclaimed, mouth gaping in surprise. 

"Commander Iverson," Sam greeted back, "We have returned from Kerberos with news of aliens."

"Duh." Zethrid said. Lotor affixed her with a glare that did not seem to affect her. 

"I have come to Earth to seek an alliance with your planet. As a show of my willingness, I have brought three of your lost humans, freed from my father's arena."

The man with one eye, Iverson, turned to a young man behind him. "Griffin. Go get Commander W. Tell him it's urgent."

Griffin saluted Iverson. "Yes, sir," He said in a voice that Lotor found unsettling, though he wasn't sure why. 

Iverson turned back to the screen. "What are your demands?" 

"I have only one demand," Lotor said, ignoring Ezor's snickering from behind him. He hoped that the Garrison officials couldn't see her, lest his dignity be questioned. 

"Keith Kogane," Lotor said after his several second long pause, to add effect. He watched as recognition spread across the officials' faces. "Hand him over to me and I will cooperate with you. I will even be so kind as to help you incorporate your planet into the Empire if you chose to do so."

Horrified looks spread across the officials' faces. "K-Keith Kogane?" An official whispered to another. 

"Shirogane's kid?" Another asked.

"That's the one." Lotor confirmed, beginning to grow tired of these humans' incompetence. Sam, Shiro, and Matt hadn't been nearly so irritating. Although, perhaps this was partially because they were traumatized from their abductions and forced-fighting experiences. 

"That's going to a problem, Sir." One of the officials whispered to Iverson. 

"Why is it a problem?" Lotor asked, ignoring the looks of surprise at his ability to hear such quiet chatter. 

"Because," Iverson said, looking both nervous and pale, "Keith Kogane was expelled from the Galaxy Garrison cadet program almost a full year ago. No one is sure where is is now."

Lotor harshly gripped the control panel, hoping to control his anger at the Galaxy Garrison's actions. Shiro, however, did no such thing. 

"You fucking what?" He shouted at the officials on the screen. "I go up to space for one fucking year and you fucking expel him?"

After another few dobashes of Shiro's angry ranting, Lotor began to realize why he was the Champion. Lotor had to admit, even he was a little intimidated by the display of rage. 

The yelling ended when the door to the Garrison command room opened and a frazzled looking man burst in. 

"Takashi!" The man yelled up at the screen, completely ignoring the fact that an alien prince had made contact with Earth. 

Shiro's (Takashi's? Why did this man have so many names?) anger melted from his face immediately after seeing the man. "Adam! Oh my god, I missed you so much! How have you been?"

"How have I been? Takashi, I've been fine. What on Earth happened to you?"

Adam gestured to Shiro's robotic arm and white hair, then to Lotor. 

"It's... a long story." Shiro replied, using his human arm to scratch the back of his neck. "I could tell you all about it over dinner tonight, if you want?"

After Adam confirmed his and Shiro's dinner plans, Lotor thought it best to get back to the matter at hand. "As touching as this reunion is, I believe there is still a problem. As I understand it, you threw Keith Kogane into the desert to die."

"He punched out my eye," Iverson protested, as if Lotor cared. "The only reason he wasn't expelled before then was because Shirogane kept making excuses for him."

"Perhaps you are forgetting just how powerful the Empire is," Lotor snarled, "You would do well to hold your tongue about matters such as this, lest I remove it as penance for casting my soulmate into the desert and leaving him for dead."

"Woah there!" Adam exclaimed, "Keith's fine. I've been in touch with him. No one needs to chop out anyone else's tongue. The man's already lost an eye. 

Lotor leaned closer to the holo-screen. "Bring me to Keith."

"You're going to have to land your ship first."

"That can be arranged." 

Lotor stepped out of his ship only to be nearly knocked over by Adam running past him and into the former champion's arms.

"Takashi!" 

"Adam!"

Lotor righted his position and looked at the hugging couple. After Shiro and Adam were done with their unseemly (yet sweet) public display of affection, Adam scanned Lotor up and down. 

"So, you're Keith's soulmate?"

"I am indeed. And you are?"

"I'm Adam. I helped raise Keith."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Lotor stuck out his hand for Adam to shake and was pleased when his offer was accepted without hesitation. He was startled when Adam proceeded to pull him into a hug. 

"If you're Keith's soulmate, you and I are family now."

"Oh. How... lovely."

Adam pulled away and scanned Lotor up and down again. He was squinting, scrutinizing Lotor's every quality. "Did you go to college?"

"What is college?"

"Can you drive?"

"I can fly a ship."

"Can you cook?"

"I don't see how this is relevant-"

"Do you have a job?"

"I'm the prince of the Galra Empire."

"What are your intentions with Keith?"

"At the moment, I wish to meet him."

"Do you do your own laundry?"

"My generals and I take turns doing laundry, but I clean my own armor, if that counts."

Adam squinted at him for another moment before smiling again. "Good enough. I'll take you guys to see Keith."

Adam turned and looked at the Garrison officials. "You all can't come."

"I'm afraid you're not in charge here, W." Iverson said, "You've already broken protocol during your outburst when Shirogane disappeared."

"Well, I'm afraid that Keith will literally kill you on sight for trespassing on his property, and then you'll be missing more than just an eye."

Lotor repressed a smile when the officials backed down. 'I like this human,' he thought. 

The drive to Keith's home was a few hours drive from the Garrison. Sam and Matt had decided to stay at the Garrison to catch them up on everything that had been going on. Lotor's generals had also decided to stay behind to make sure none of the officials tried 'anything funny,' as Zethrid had put it. 

"Door's unlocked, Adam!" Lotor heard from behind the door.

"How does he know it's you?"

Adam shrugged. "No one else comes out here. He made me promise not to tell child services about this place until he was an adult. And now that he is an adult, I don't really have any reason to. Plus, I don't want to be arrested."

This all made perfect sense to Lotor. 

The inside of the house was small and dark, but organized other than the large board of photos and red string. 

"What in the Empire is that?" Lotor asked.

"That's Keith's board about the lights and symbols in the cave," Adam answered. "There's this robotic lion under there that he's been trying to figure out. When he realized his soulmark was written in the same language as what was on the cave walls, he was convinced his soulmate was an alien. He's going to flip out when he realizes he was right."

"A robotic lion?" Lotor's mind began going a mile a minute. 'Like in the legend of Voltron? Could it be true?'

He pushed the idea out of his head. It wasn't important right now. He was meeting his soulmate, who he had been searching for for centuries. He felt so excited that he could practically feel himself floating on air. 

"Hey, Keith!" Adam called out. "Guess what?"

Keith walked out of a hallway toward the back of the main room. "Is it about the giant alien warship in the sk-" 

Keith's eyes widened. Lotor took a moment to admire his soulmate. He was gorgeous, with dark hair accenting high cheekbones. 

"Shiro? And an alien?"

Shiro waved. "Hey, Keith."

"You're okay? I knew there wasn't a pilot error! What happened?"

"I'll tell you all about it later. For now, how have you been?" 

"I've been okay. Got kicked out of the Garrison, but other than th- wait. Who the hell are you?" 

Lotor pointed to himself. "Me?"

"No, the other giant white haired alien man standing in my house."

'Feisty,' Lotor thought, but he ignored the snark in favor of introducing himself. "I am Prince Lotor of the Galra Empire. I am also your soulmate. It is truly a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you from Shiro on our way to Earth."

Keith didn't seem phased by the fact that he and Lotor were soulmates. 

'Well,' Lotor thought, 'Adam did say that he had thought an alien was his soulmate for years. Maybe it isn't much of a shock.'

"You and Shiro know each other?"

"I broke him and the other humans out of my father's arena."

Keith looked impressed by this. "Thanks for that."

Lotor suddenly wished that he had put more thought into what he was going to say once he and Keith met. 

"So," Keith said at last, "There's this giant robot lion under a cave. Wanna go check it out? It's a good first date spot."

"That sounds delightful."

@keitor-month-2020

#keitor month 2020 #We have the power of keitor and satan on our side #keitor #keith vld #lotor vld #vld #voltron #fanfiction

[myheadinthecloudsnotcomingdown]

When Lila Gives You Lemons - Chapter 4

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Ao3

“We need to tell Ladybug.” Adrien said numbly. He was purposely not thinking about how bad this looked. Ladybug had suspected his father of being Hawkmoth before, but hadn’t given him any reason why. Could she have been right? Could the Collector have just been a red herring to throw them off the scent? Adrien pushed those thoughts from his mind, he could freak out later when he was alone with Plagg.

Marinette nodded and began rolling up the map, “I’ve learned a few tricks from Alya, so I should be able to track down Ladybug and give her this. For now, I think this should stay between us and the heroes. Who knows what Hawkmoth would do if he knew we were doing this.”

Adrien nodded. He wasn’t worried about himself, he had superpowers, but he didn’t want Marinette getting hurt when she was only trying to help. He stood up and gathered his bag, which had been lying forgotten in the corner of the room, “So, um, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Marinette startled from where she’d apparently been lost in her own thoughts as well, “uh, yeah. School. Tomorrow. Sure.”

As Adrien left, he wondered how he was ever going to face his father.

//

Dinner that night was awkward. At least, more awkward than it normally was. Adrien just couldn’t unsee the myriad of butterfly symbols strategically placed throughout the house. He’d written it off as a coincidence before, but now? Now he wasn’t so sure.

“Remember you have a photoshoot during your afternoon classes tomorrow, then a chinese lesson after fencing practice. Your father expects you to reach an advanced level by the end of the month.”

“Yes Natalie.” Did Natalie know? Was she involved somehow?

“Are you feeling well, Adrien? You’ve been playing with your food for the past five minutes.”

Adrien set down his fork, “um... I’m fine, I guess it’s just kind of been a long day and I’m not really that hungry?” He looked up at Natalie, who was scowling slightly.

“If you’re not sick, you need to finish your food Adrien. Your nutritionist would have a heart attack if you’re not getting enough calories, not to mention the legal issues.”

Adrien nodded and forced down another few bites of food. Wonderful, yet another way he was failing to live up to expectations. And wasn’t it telling that it was the nutritionist that would care, not Father or Natalie?

The rest of the meal passed in silence. Adrien finished his food and got up to go back to his room when the door opened.

“Hello Adrien.”

“Hello Father.”

Why? Normally, Adrien would have been ecstatic to have his father come to dinner, even if it was just at the end, but after the revelations of the afternoon, it was all he could do to act natural. Of all the days for his father to talk to him, why did it have to be today?

“I was informed that you disappeared this afternoon. Do you have any explanation why?”

Adrien’s mouth went dry and his stomach sunk, “I told my bodyguard that I went over to a friend’s for homework.”

Gabriel’s glare hardened, “Ms. Rossi said she hasn’t seen you since before the akuma attack.”

Adrien didn’t know what to say. He’d actually checked? “Lila's not my only friend.”

“She’s the only one I have approved of.” Gabriel turned to leave, “You are grounded for the next week. If I hear of you going over ‘to a friend’s house’ again, you’ll be staying home from school for a week. Do you understand?”

“Yes Father.”

“Good. Sleep well, Adrien.”

Today sucked.

//

“Just because your house is in the search radius does not automatically mean your father is Hawkmoth. Just ‘cause the man’s a dick doesn’t mean he’s a supervillain.”

“But he might be. Just think, Plagg, is there anyone else that Ladybug has suspected? I didn’t want to believe her then, but Ladybug doesn’t do things like that without a good reason. And if Father is Hawkmoth then that means that Natalie is probably Mayura and oh my god, is Gorilla involved? I don’t know what I’m gonna do! I’m living in the same house as a supervillain!”

Plagg bopped Adrien lightly on the nose, “Stop that. This whole mathy science thing isn’t exact, especially since your girlfriend was just writing down things as she went.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Adrien muttered, but he was freaking out anymore.

Plagg smiled, “Whatever you say, lover boy.” Adrien glared at him, but since when had Plagg let that stop him, “Besides, even if your dad is Hawkmoth, that wouldn’t be a recent development, meaning that you’ve been living under the same roof as the supervillain for almost a year now. The only difference is that now you know .”

Adrien sighed, “I have no idea if that was supposed to be comforting or ominous.”

“I try.”

Adrien looked out his window at the moon, “It’s getting late, let’s go.”

Plagg swallowed the piece of cheese he was holding and let himself be sucked into the ring. Tonight was going to be interesting.

//

Ladybug was already waiting for him with a rolled up map slung across her back when Chat arrived at the Eiffel Tower for patrol.

“Hey Kitty, we need to talk.”

He already knew what this was about, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to, “What? Has Milady finally realized that I’m the cat’s meow?”

She smiled sadly, “Not tonight, Chat. Do you remember Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“That’s the bakery girl, right?”

Ladybug nodded, “Well, she tracked me down today. Apparently she’s been tracking akumas and she and Adrien Agreste compiled the data earlier today and, well...maybe it’s better if I show you the map.

She stretched it out on the support beam between them and Chat studied it for a minute. Somehow it looked different than it had this afternoon. It seemed more important somehow, like it was telling him that this was his fault and his responsibility. It was probably because he was transformed, or maybe because he’d actually seen his father that day. After a few minutes, he looked up at his partner.

“We’ve suspected Gabriel Agreste of being Hawkmoth before.”

“I know,” she hugged herself, “And I know it sounds paranoid to think he might have akumatized himself to cover his tracks, but what if he did? What if we’ve really known who he was for months and just couldn’t see it?”

Chat rolled up the map and handed it back to Ladybug, “Why did we suspect him the first time? I don’t think you ever told me.”

“It was because of guardian stuff.” Chat raised an eyebrow, and Ladybug sighed, “I couldn’t tell you then because you didn’t know about the guardian yet. I’d only just found out and Tikki only took me to him because she had to. Gabriel Agreste had a book. A spellbook entirely on the miraculous and their properties written in a code known only to the guardians.”

Chat’s eyes widened as he remembered. He’d gotten pulled from school because of that book.

“Master Fu told me that the spellbook was lost at the same time as the Butterfly and Peacock miraculouses. He said that since all three were lost together, it was likely that whoever found the book, also found the miraculous.”

Chat nodded as he processed everything, “That...makes a lot of sense. So, if he has this book and he lives right where the akumas seem to be coming from, then…”

Ladybug nodded, “Then the evidence is piling up and there’s a strong possibility that Gabriel Agreste really is Hawkmoth.”

Chat looked out over the city, “That’s a good thing, right? I mean, now that we know who he is, we might actually be able to stop him.”

“I guess,” she fiddled with her yoyo, “It’s just, where do we go from here? Right now all we’ve got are coincidences and conjectures and that’s not nearly enough to go in guns blazing. Besides that, he’s got a son. I don’t want Adrien getting caught in the crossfire.”

Chat’s heart warmed in spite of the conversation. His lady cared! But she raised a valid point.

“Maybe we should talk to Master Fu about this. Even if he doesn’t have any advice, it’s still probably something he should know.”

“You’re right. Would you like to do it this time, Kitty?”

Chat shook his head, “It’s probably safer for you to. You already know where he lives and I’m grounded, so it’ll be harder to sneak away.” Not to mention the danger if his father realized what was going on and followed him.

“What’d you do kitty, push all the mugs off the table?”

Chat smiled, “Something like that.”

“Well, I’ll talk to him tomorrow then. Goodnight kitty.” She threw her yoyo and swung off into the night. Chat stood watching her disappear for a few minutes, reluctant to go back to the place he called home.

“Goodnight Milady.

#when lila gives you lemons #adrienette #gabriel agreste's a+ parenting #smart marinette #i'm alive

[spideyspence]

all i do is sit and think about you ; peter parker

Stark!Reader x platonic!Peter Parker

Warnings: drug abuse, death, using drugs to cope with someone’s death, god this is sad I’m sorry

this takes place after endgame

A/N: Peter and the reader are both 18 for plot purposes and I didn’t want to write about an underaged kid using drugs. Also, I have no experience with drug abuse, and I do not know of anyone (close to me who I have talked to) who has dealt with drug abuse so I’m sorry if this isn’t the best depiction of drug abuse. My only knowledge is from books, tv shows and movies. i also did not go into the recovery part of this because of my lack of knowledge about drug abuse.

I also took a different approach with this prompt because the music video along with the song is about drug use and matty healy’s recovery with it and so I decided to use that angle of this prompt while adding a little heartbreak of course.

this was for @hollandroos & @neptuneparker’s ‘whatever it takes’ writing challenge

my masterlist

the wc masterlist

-

Watching someone fall down in front of you is tough. Not as in tripping over their two feet, but when their mental health starts to fall from their previous state of happiness only to then see their physical health start to deteriorate.

Peter Parker was your best friend. You met in elementary school when you were both eight years old and you became friends instantly. Building Lego together after school, watching cartoons together and with Peter helping you with your maths homework and you helping him during English class, everyone knew you two were inseparable.

Peter was always a bubbly kid. Full of energy and always participating in class. He wasn’t a popular kid, but he got along with the teachers well and some of the students.

In high school, it was you, Ned and Peter all joined at the hips. The three of you were still building Lego together and putting all your spare change together to buy new sets.

When Peter was bitten by the spider, he hadn’t said a word to you, but you knew that something was different. He was acting differently, would cringe at loud noises and when something was thrown in his way (usually by Flash), he’d be able to dodge it without even turning his head. He was never the most athletic kid but then out of nowhere, he was acing gym class and would do so many sit-ups without needing to take a break. The amount of food he ate was also quite different. Peter had always had a big stomach (with evidence of the pizza eating competition you had when you were twelve) but your best friend had started eating a lot more you found. Not to forget that all of a sudden, he was a lot busier and was declining hanging out after school a lot more. He was finishing his homework right before class and at times he was falling asleep when he sat at the back of the classroom.

When you had asked Peter what was going on, he told you what had happened. Never did eight-year-old you think that your best friend would have been like the animated characters on the TV but, it was so cool to you.

You took it upon yourself to look after Peter when it came to him being Spider-Man. You made sure he was eating enough, you’d remind him of the chemistry homework that was due the next day, you’d photocopy the notes from the first 30 minutes he missed due to his nap. You didn’t want your best friend to fall apart and prioritise saving New York over his own health.

Peter was also there for you when your mum had told you when you were 15, who your dad was. You were reluctant to tell Peter at first, for he had idolised Tony since he had made the change to Stark Industries to stop selling and manufacturing weapons in the way they were previously doing. It was also weird because technically Peter was Tony’s employee, so you didn’t know how Peter was going to take the news.

When you met Tony for the first time, you were nervous. He was your father and you had only seen him on TV and the couple of times you had watched him fly around New York in his suit, mesmerised by the thought and building process of the suit.

Tony had explained to you that he didn’t want you out of his life as you had originally thought. Your mother wasn’t comfortable with being in front of flashing cameras all the time and Tony didn’t feel comfortable with the same situation. So, your mum took you in, and Tony and your mum had decided that it was for the best that you lived away from Tony’s life.

You got along well. You helped out your Dad in his lab and the two of you sent Happy insane. You loved cooking with Pepper and you always sided with her because you knew that she was always right, and you had to side with her sometimes.

When you told Peter about Tony, he took it with excitement, but he knew that you didn’t want this information to go out to the public because you didn’t know how your peers at school would react.

The three of you would work together, you had a spare suit just in case you needed to help out at all but Tony had kept you quiet from the rest of the Avengers, because he looked to Peter as a son, and he hated how much danger he was in and he didn’t want that to happen to another person that was family to him.

-

You and Peter had died in the snap.

You were in class when you saw your teacher turn to dust along with your classmates.

When you came back, you were ready to fight.

You knew that your father was hurting over yours and Peter’s death, and you didn’t care what your father said, you were fighting with him now.

You helped Peter out with getting the gauntlet past Thanos’ army and you fist-bumped each other when you took down one of the weird creatures.

Fighting with everyone came naturally to you and you felt comfortable.

Then you saw that everyone around you, they were tired, and many had fallen. You saw the blonde lady with the cool glowing hands trying to take down Thanos, but then she was flung right past you. You had seen this burst of colourful light which meant that Thanos had used an infinity stone to take her on. You were going to run after her and check if she was okay but then you saw your father.

You had a small reunion with him, you chatted quickly with him through the suits and worked with each other through the fights. You hugged each other but it’s pretty hard to hug with the suits on. You had said to Tony that after this battle, you were going to give him a hug without the suits on and he smiled, saying that he would shout you a burger after all this.

You couldn’t move as your father threw himself at the gauntlet, but when Thanos pushed him aside, you gasped. You ran towards Thanos as he lifted his arm to snap his fingers, but you weren’t fast enough.

You heard this clang, coming from Thanos, more specifically from the gauntlet.

Nothing felt different.

You looked over to see your Dad’s hand glowing with all six infinity stones arranging themselves and you could see the energy flowing through his suit.

Of course, you were proud of your Dad, he was the Tony Stark, but you were beaming because your Dad fucking did it.

You heard your Dad say, ‘I am Iron Man’ and you just about flipped it. You were ready to talk to Peter about how awesome Tony was for the next few months, and every time that your Dad walked in, you two were going to go silent.

Then you heard that snap.

Thanos’ army started to turn to dust and it was a relief.

It was finally over.

Then you looked over to where your Dad was, and you raced over.

You fell to your knees, as Peter was there, crying with you.

He was Tony fucking Stark, he couldn’t die.

You leant against your father hugged him, but he spent his final moments with Pepper, which is what he would have wanted. Seeing Pepper staying strong, it made you want to cry even more.

You fell into Peter’s arms as you sobbed, and you felt your best friend’s hands rub your back in comfort.

Seeing Tony die took a massive toll on you, but you were never the only one affected.

-

At the funeral, you hugged Pepper as the wreath floated through along the lake.

You and Peter both found out that Tony had a daughter and met Morgan. The same cheekiness as her father and you instantly cared for Morgan.

You sat with Morgan for a bit as you both talked about Tony and you asked Morgan about some of her hobbies.

You also met Harley, a kid who had helped your father during the whole drama with the CEO of Advanced Idea Mechanics. Peter, Harley and you all got along well pretty fast. Harley had told you how Tony had kept in touch all these years.

You joined Happy and Morgan for burgers, and in the back of your mind, you still kept your Dad’s promise. This was the burger he would have shouted for you.

Before the three of you left the burger joint, you returned back and bought a cheeseburger, in memory of your father.

-

He didn’t sleep.

He completed his homework, but it was never good.

He was barely passing his classes and May was okay with it for the first couple of months, but now it’s been six months since Tony’s death and Aunt May is sick of it.

You stayed by Peter. You both needed to support one another in mourning.

Spending a lot of time looking after Morgan, focusing hard on your homework and putting all your energy into your school work was a distraction from Tony’s death. You needed to distract yourself so you wouldn’t fall into the pit and never come out because you knew your father, and he would never forgive yourself if the people he loved didn’t push through and live their best lives.

You helped Peter out with his homework, and you reminded him to eat, even though Spider-Man hadn’t been seen in months.

You could see that Peter was slowly deteriorating. He left class often and returned five minutes later but you never found out why. His leg bounced often but you always dismissed it as an itch to go back to fighting crime, but he wasn’t mentally prepared, and you knew that.

Since Tony’s death, it was like Peter had put a wall up. You understood that, but at a time like this, everyone needed everyone else’s help.

-

You and Peter had decided to catch up after school to study for the chemistry test the next day, but you had left your textbook and notebook at your place, so you were going to meet Peter at his.

You walked home to your mum’s but today wasn’t a good day for you.

It was six months after Tony’s death. Six months since you had last seen your Dad’s smile in person.

He had created two AI’s, one for you and one for Morgan in your suits. On the hard days, at home, you would sit with the AI on as you did your homework. Your dad would help out with your physics homework when you didn’t understand it and sometimes it was easier to hear your Dad’s laugh again.

You didn’t do it too often though, only on the really bad days. You knew that if you did it too much, then it would become obsessive and it wouldn’t be good for your mental health.

When you got home, you could feel the frown on your face but when you saw your mum in the kitchen, you gave her a soft smile.

Your mum always knew when it wasn’t a good day, and she gave the best hugs when it came to comfort.

‘Do you want me to make you a cup of tea or anything?’ Your mum asked you softly.

You softly declined and told her about how you had just come home to pick up your chemistry textbook and then head back over to Peter’s to study.

She nodded and when you were about to leave with your textbook in your arms, she kissed you on your head and rubbed your shoulder as you left.

-

You arrived at Peter’s and with a knock on the door, Peter had opened and gave you a smile.

His pupils were dilated but you could still see that he was tired, and he was wearing his midtown tech sweatshirt from today.

You both sat down at the small table in the apartment to start studying. Making your way through the equations, balancing and continually checking the period table you both had sitting in front of you.

There was a bowl of chips that had hardly been touched. You had taken a couple, but Peter hadn’t. You had tried to ignore it, but Peter’s leg was bouncing under the table and his hand was shaking. His eyes were darting around the room as you were doing your homework.

When you had stood up to get a glass of water, you noticed that there was a pain in your stomach, and with the realisation that it was your period cramps, you told Peter that you were going to go into his room to grab the painkillers.

‘No, I’ll grab them for you.’ Peter said as he quickly started to follow you in the direction of his bedroom.

‘I’ve been over to yours so many times and I’ve looked after you so many times, I know where they are. They’re in your top bedside table draw.’

‘Yeah, but-’ Peter stuttered.

You laughed as you entered his room and turned to the draw. Peter was frozen in the doorway as you opened the draw.

You noticed that there were a few empty packets of pain killers and a few empty sandwich bags, but you didn’t think much of it.

You found the ibuprofen and as you were about to close the drawer, you noticed a sandwich bag that wasn’t empty. It had little tablets, none the exact same colour. You also saw at the back of the drawer, a small bag with a few used needles.

‘Peter?’ Your voice shook. You didn’t want it to be what it obviously was because Peter was always the strong one. Always.

He stood there in silence, staring at his feet. He didn’t want to be the one that had to admit that he wasn’t coping.

He felt stupid. Tony Stark was a guy that gave him the suit. He helped him out a bit, maybe a lot. Peter knew that he had done so much for him, but he just felt horrible that he was the one that couldn’t get over Tony’s death while you were being stronger. Your Dad had died while he was the one that couldn’t cope.

‘Pete, it’s alright. Okay, well, it isn’t alright, but I understand. It can get tough, but we need to talk about this.’

Peter sat down on his bed and as soon as you put your arms around him, he broke.

It was months’ worth of tears that fell from his eyes. Pained sobs that he had internalised and nested in his chest.

He was feeling the pain he had kept to himself for six months. The pain he had put aside and refused to feel.

‘I’m tired, and it hurts so much. I feel horrible, you lost your Dad but I’m the one that can’t cope.’

You told him about the AI that you turned on during your hard days and you explained to him that he was allowed to feel this pain.

‘Peter, you’ve lost your Dad, Uncle Ben and now you’ve lost another person that was filling that father figure role. You’re allowed to hurt.’ You said and you felt the tears coming down your cheeks.

‘It just hurts so bad because I’ll sit there, about to do physics homework and all I can do is sit and think about him. The things he did for me, and how he helped me in being a better superhero and now he’s gone and… I feel like I never said a proper goodbye nor thanked him properly.’ Peter cried.

‘Peter, stop. Don’t spiral okay, it isn’t good.’ You said as you put your arms around him for a hug. Peter let his head fall onto your chest as tears continued to fall down his face.

-

May was working that night and you had both done a few hours of studying so you returned to the table and closed both of your textbooks. You put yours in your backpack and texted your mum to let you know that you were staying at Peter’s for the night. You also texted May. Let her know that Peter wasn’t feeling too well and that you were going to stay over. May asked if she needed to come home to look after him but you reassured her that it was okay right now.

You called the local pizza place and ordered two pizzas, as Peter was sitting on the couch wiping his tears as quietly as he could.

Two of the blankets in the cupboard you had taken and put on the couch and softly asked Peter if he could set them up as you set up the coffee table for dinner.

Peter chose the movie for that night as he looked through the numerous movies littered around the room. He settled on a favourite, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

You felt bad as you snuck into his room and removed the drugs from his drawer, but you just didn’t want him to touch them anymore. You had put your school books back in the bag you had taken as a cover up for placing the drugs in there. You would get Happy to meet you at school so you would be able to dispose of them properly.

You got the two of you drinks as you then settled on the couch. Peter was getting comfortable as you sat there, waiting for the pizza to arrive.

Soon enough, the bell rang, and you gave the delivery guy the money and tip as you smiled and then closed the door.

Both of you sat down on the couch and you both ate the pizza.

-

Peter had only had a couple of slices, compared to his usual whole pizza due to the work of being a super-hero. You understood that, when things got tough, your appetite wasn’t as strong either.

Your best friend had his head resting on your shoulder as you both watched the movie. You had your arm wrapped around his shoulder as the parade scene was playing on the screen. You felt Peter’s chest rise as he chuckled at one of Ferris’ lines, but his head never moved.

-

By the end credits, Peter’s eyes were closed as he was asleep on your shoulder. You softly nudged him awake because as much as you cared for him, your shoulder was hurting, and you weren’t going to be able to fall asleep like that.

Peter opened his eyes and came to his senses. He slowly got up from the couch, thanked you for looking after him and he then said goodnight.

You had stayed over at Peter and May’s enough for you to know how to set yourself up. You always slept on the couch while Peter slept in his room. There was no way the two of you were going to be able to fit in his single bed.

You grabbed a pillow from the same cupboard as before and you then rearranged the blankets. You took the dishes over to the bench, put the left-over pizza in the fridge and threw any rubbish in the bin. You also sent May a quick text letting her know that Peter might be feeling a bit better, but he just needed a good hug from May when she got home from her night shift.

You then sent Pete a quick text, ‘goodnight’ as you turned off your phone and curled up on the couch.

You were going to talk to May the next morning before school, about Peter’s struggles and how he was ‘coping’. You knew May, she would be panicked at first, but you would make sure that she took the panic out on you because you knew that if Peter had to deal with it, it would break him again. Tomorrow was Friday, so you’d tell May in the morning, but you would get her to ask Peter about when he got home from school.

Peter would probably see a therapist, but you wanted to make sure that you both talked about it. When your father died, you thought that both of you would sit on the rooftop of a building, looking at the New York skyline.

You never ended up talking about it, that’s probably why Peter fell down the rabbit hole. But you needed to continue reminding yourself that it wasn’t your fault because you believed for the longest time that your father’s death was your fault.

You knew that Peter needed you now, for a shoulder to lean on during recovery and during his withdrawals and the times it was going to hurt so bad, and the drugs were no longer going to help him.

So, you were going to be there for him instead.

#sophsandcoraswc #peter parker fanfic #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanficion #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker #tom holland #post endgame #endgame spoilers #spider-man imagine #spider-man #spider-man fanfic #peter parker x stark!reader

[galadrieljones]

The Lily Farm - Chapter 38

AO3 | Masterpost

Rating: M (Mature) - sexual content, violence, and adult themes

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey to the north, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life, like the wilderness, is full of uncertainty and complications, and as they embark on their desperate search for meaning together, they endure many trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to one another, and to their future.

Chapter 38: Wild Horses

Childhood living is easy to do.

-The Rolling Stones, "Wild Horses"

“Your wife,” said Eagle Flies. He and Arthur were up on the top of a hill, looking down at the great oil refinery of the Heartlands. It was bustling, sundown. “I noticed that she shielded her stomach, when she was defending you, back in St. Denis. She is pregnant.”

Arthur did not look away from his binoculars. “Yep.”

Eagle Flies sighed. “I understand now why you were so reluctant to help us, and why money is so important. I am sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, son,” said Arthur, chewing on a reed. “What’s being done to you is beyond repair, and Mary Beth was right. Standing idly by is an old habit for me. I’m trying to be better. Granted, I never thought that being better would mean stealing from the State Government, but as I said the other day, morality is relative.”

“Morality is relative,” said Eagle Flies, staring off into the distance, at the pink clouds. “That is a wise sentiment. Is it yours?”

“No,” said Arthur. “Belongs to some German.”

“A German?”

“A writer. I can’t even pronounce his name, but when you live like I do, you got a lot of time on your hands.”

“What does that mean?” said Eagle Flies.

“It means I’ve read practically everything. Now come here, take a look at this.” Arthur handed him the binoculars, directed him to watch the covered wagons rolling in through the front gate. “Wagons are going in and out through there, on supply runs. Probably a couple times a day.” He squinted into the sky, glanced around, tipped his hat backward so he could assess the weather. “There’s a storm on the horizon, over that way.” He pointed south. “I wait till dark, I may not beat the rain.”

“It is unsafe for you to go during the daylight. Also, if those files are as incriminating as we believe, Mr. Cornwall’s men will destroy them if they see you coming.”

“On that I agree with you,” said Arthur. He took a deep breath, put his hands on his hips and thought hard. “Okay. Here’s what’s gonna happen. The sun’ll be down in one hour. When it is, I’m gonna stow away on one of them wagons, next one comes through. If nothing comes in due time, I will find some other way in, but I reckon this will work.”

“Do we need a contingency?”

“Hopefully not,” said Arthur. “But you hear bullets start to fly, son, that means I may need your help.”

“I am on it,” said Eagle Flies.”

“Who am I looking for.”

“The foreman’s name is Danbury,” said Eagle Flies, handing the binoculars back to Arthur. “He has the files we need in his office, above the refinery room. It’s that window, with the blinds drawn up.”

Arthur glanced through the binoculars, quickly. “I see it. What will the files say, the ones I’m looking for?”

“There’ll be a report from Leland Oil Development Company.”

“Very good,” said Arthur. He sat down, leaning against a great rock, studying the refinery and how it was this huge and ugly mass, leaking poison into the heart of the land. He lit a cigarette, offered one to Eagle Flies who politely declined.

“You got a wife, Mr. Eagle Flies?” said Arthur after a little while, taking off his hat, smoothing the lining within.

“No,” said Eagle Flies. He sat down next to Arthur, took to sharpening his hunting knife.

“You want one?”

Eagle Flies shot him a look, but he was curious. “One day. There is a girl.”

“A girl, huh.”

“Yes.”

“Well, do yourself a favor then,” said Arthur, smoking, “and refrain from starting any wars. Women, you see, they’re smarter than us, and they don’t take too kindly to that sort of stupidity.” He closed his eyes to the breeze, blowing northerly. He could feel the rain on it, like a bite.

“Sometimes, war is an unavoidable consequence.”

“Indeed it is,” said Arthur. He plucked up a long piece of grass, started shredding it in his fingertips. “Just—I know that you’re young, Eagle Flies, and you got a lot of blood running through your veins and your ego, but try to listen to your father on this. He may know a fair bit more than you think he does.”

“Is your father living?”

Arthur laughed to himself. “No. He died when I was a teenager.”

“Did you listen to him. When he was alive.”

Arthur studied the tip of his cigarette, watched the ashes burn off and fall into the dirt. “Only as far as I had to to survive. But my father was a bad man. Yours is a good man. I can just tell.”

“Good men fail all the time, Mr. Morgan,” said Eagle Flies. It was a sad sentiment. Arthur was staring into the advancing twilight, how it fell in purple hues across the land and over the refinery. The wind was picking up. The clouds now covered half the sky.

“You got a point,” said Arthur.

He knew exactly what Eagle Flies meant. He saw no clean answer.

Meanwhile, back at Shady Belle, John and Abigail were slated to head to St. Denis, where Dutch wanted them on a job together, scouting the trolley station on a tip from Angelo Bronte. Initially, he had planned on doing said recon himself; however, Hosea said no. After the wedding and such business as Hanging Dog, Dutch needed to lie as low as possible, and with Arthur out on other business, it was pretty much John and Abbie or bust. It was good to use a pretty lady on a job like this, said Hosea. Trolley clerks are idiots. Desperate for somebody to think they’re important, they’ll bite the first baited hook they see all day.

It had been raining something awful that morning in the swamps. A nasty storm whipped through off the Lanahechee, headed north with alarming speed. A straight-line wind came through, tipped Pearson’s wagon over. Nobody got hurt, but it was an awful mess. The storm left behind it some humidity, and a brand new heat in its wake. The sun came out, drying everything, illuminating the destruction. Mary Beth and Abigail were tidying the chickens, gathering eggs. Abigail chose two to put on the slaughter, as the stew had been destroyed and the camp needed food. Charles had left to find boar, and Sadie was out on the perimeter. John, now that their trip to the city had been delayed half a day, was hauling up the wagon with help from Bill and Javier. It was hot and he was smoking, and he stripped shirtless along with several of the men doing the heavy lifting that day. Mary Beth had a skirt full of eggs, and Abigail held those two chickens that she had broke at the neck. They stood watching the boys haul up that wagon to its busted axels. Pearson stood by in shambles, complaining like his livelihood had been destroyed. John barked at him to shut the fuck up. It wasn’t so bad. It was just a goddam hiccup.

Mary Beth watched Abigail, who watched John. She seemed bothered. Both women were in white sleeveless blouses and sweating in the sun.

“You okay?” said Mary Beth, nudging.

“What?” said Abigail, as if disturbed. “No. Or, yes. Goddammit. I’m fine.”

“I was just askin,” said Mary Beth.

Abigail sighed, looked at her. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little on edge. This heat is makin me itch.”

“I hear you. How’s John?”

This seemed to stir up something. They could hear him shouting out orders then, and the other men followed. Miss Grimshaw was comforting Mr. Pearson, who sat on a wet log with his head in his hands.

“Abigail?”

“What?”

Mary Beth shrugged.

“Oh, shit,” said Abigail. She took Mary Beth by the hand then, dragged her over to the porch where it was they could not be overheard.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” said Abigail.

“Okay,” said Mary Beth, pushing the sweaty hair off her face. There were flies buzzing, too. “Did something happen, with you and John?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” said Abigail, shaking her head, reading Mary Beth’s mind. “No. That’s just the thing. No. Nothing." She took a deep breath. “Something keeps…coming close. To happening. But it never does.”

“Hmm,” said Mary Beth. “I see.”

“Yeah, well.”

“How long has it been for you two?”

“Lord knows,” said Abigail, studying her nails. She dropped the chickens into the long leather sack she had flung over shoulder. “Years. We ain’t been—I mean, we ain’t really been on any kind of terms in a long time. It just…it’s been a lot of complications. With Jack. But Jack is his. He’s his. I swear it. I slept with other of these fools but not then, not no more. I picked John, and after that, I didn't touch a one of them.”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” said Mary Beth. “I understand.”

“Don’t know how you could,” said Abigail, gazing at John as he worked. “I don’t mean that like, any kind of insult. Just the opposite. You and Arthur, you seem so sturdy? He’s such a—a man, you know? Just such a goddam man. He always has been. Like he was born that way.”

Mary Beth swatted at a fly that was getting up in her hair, and then she sat down on one of the chairs there, right by the front door. Abigail followed suit, sat beside her. “He’s got his own albatross to bear, Abbie,” said Mary Beth. “It ain’t that simple, I promise.”

“Oh, shit. I know. I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

“It’s really okay,” Mary Beth went on. “I just, I know how we must seem. Like a whirlwind, getting married. And I love him so much, I do, but it ain’t pie, being with Arthur. He ain’t a easy man. Maybe his demons don’t manifest like John’s, but he’s older. He’s different. It’s just different.”

“I get it,” Abigail said, breathing. She placed her hand on Mary Beth’s knee. “I do.”

Mary Beth cradled the eggs in her skirt, looked down at them, counted. There were fourteen in all. “I know you do.”

“You worried about him?” said Abigail.

“Yes,” said Mary Beth, taking a deep breath. “It’s strange. Before we got together, I loved him still, but I didn’t worry about him, not really. It’s like, like I knew he was coming back, no matter what, back then. He was like a knight of legends, a hero who could never die. But now? I don’t know. Maybe because I know him better, because I seen him in the dim light of the evening, because I've lived with him, right on the cusp, and the two of us, we been together under some awful predicaments, but also a lot of joy. Loving him, knowing what he does, and knowing what's out there, I worry all the goddam time. I mean, I shot a man to save his life. What if I hadn't been there? I think about that, constantly. Sweet Jesus.”

Abigail nodded like she understood. “You’re pregnant, too,” she said. “Being pregnant makes you feel all sorts of…anxiety. Trust me, I know.”

“I keep having these vivid dreams. More like nightmares,” said Mary Beth, “that he’s dead, or that he never existed at all, but I’m still pregnant. In one, he was being dragged away by a wild horse on a mountain. Drug him right off a cliff. It’s terrifying.”

“I get that,” said Abigail. “I do. I had the same sorts of dreams when I was pregnant with Jack.”

“And I’m so goddam thirsty. Like, just so thirsty. I drink so much water, and yet, I’m always thirsty. Why?”

“I don’t know,” said Abigail. “But that ain’t really gonna go away for a long time. Try fruit juice? Juice always made me feel better. I liked orange juice with Jack.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” said Mary Beth, smiling.

“Me, too,” said Abigail.

They looked back at the boys then, out in the yard. John was taking a break, drinking some water and finishing his smoke. He had his hair knotted off his face. He glanced at them, waved sarcastically.

“John Marston,” scolded Abigail, but she blushed. He smiled and looked away.

Mary Beth found this very sweet. “So what do you think?” she said. “You gonna let him back into your bed or what?”

“Excuse me?”

“In St. Denis. You guys are going tonight, right? You’ll stay the night, won’t you?”

Abigail looked down at her boots. “Yeah, we're staying the night,” she said. “But I don't know. He kisses me goodnight, every night lately. Since your wedding, in fact. We been sleeping in the same bed, sometimes. We just ain’t been, you know, doing anything but sleeping.” She seemed nervous as she spoke of it, fidgety. She kept fussing with her hem. “I don’t know why I’m so goddam anxious.”

“I do,” said Mary Beth, shrugging. “It’s a big deal, Abbie. The two of you is…you’re getting strong again. It only makes sense, that you’d be thinking about it. Do you want to?”

“Yes,” said Abigail, without hesitation. “I just—I keep feeling like I’m ready, but then the time comes, and I choke. He ain’t never once pushed me or even made the suggestion. And he's been drinking less, so he's not even his idiot self no more, looking for a bite anywhere he can. He's changed. I know he’s waiting on me, but I just don’t know what’ll get me there.”

“You’ll know,” said Mary Beth, confident. “Like you said, it’s been real complicated for you guys. But when the time is right, you’ll know. Trust your gut. And don’t put no pressure on tonight. I was just kidding with you.”

Abigail blushed, her eyes bright. “Thank you, Mary Beth.” She seemed young and looked so pretty in the sunlight. It always felt like she was so much older, because she had a son, but her and Mary Beth were the same exact age. “You need anything, picked up in the city?”

“We was just there,” said Mary Beth. “So, no.”

“Maybe I’ll get you some juice. What kind you like?”

“Anything,” said Mary Beth sighing. “Juice would be good though. I ain’t had none in years. Thanks.”

“Arthur is fine,” said Abigail. “He’ll be back in less than a week.”

“Yeah,” said Mary Beth, trying to smile. “I mean, he should be.”

“He will be.”

Jack came running up then, comically, as he had to pee and wasn’t brave enough to go by himself yet. He was prancing about and had two toads in his possession, one in each of the pockets of his jeans.

Later that night, John and Abigail were in St. Denis. They rode in after straightening out that business with Pearson’s wagon, and it had gotten dark, and the lights of the city were buzzing overhead in advertisement of a finer, more organized and upscale existence. They had not shared in any such romance for some time. Abigail recalled how, once in Denver right after they met, they had stolen tickets to a show off a southern gentleman with an alligator briefcase. They sat in the back, reveling in the mystery of ladies dancing on stilts, and then they left and took a walk to a little lake there, holding hands and looking up at the stars. John remembered, too, as he tied up their horses outside the saloon and guided her through the doors and into the tasteful raucous within.

“You was wearing a green dress,” he said, bashful. “I remember, it had moons on the collar.”

“Geez,” said Abigail. “Not even I remembered the moons.”

“Well it looked good on you.”

They got a table toward the back. A girl came around and took their orders. They got a plate of fish to share and a couple glasses of whiskey with water splashed in.They ate and drank and talked a little. John went up to pay the tab and came back to the table with two keys.

“We should hit the hay,” he said. “It’s late. Trolley station opens early.”

“What you got there?”

“Oh. One for me, and one for you.” He gave her one single, solitary key.

She held it in her hand, and she looked at him. “Two, huh?”

He shrugged. “I just figured.”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding.

He gave her his hand and helped her up from the table and they walked past the bar, saying goodnight to the bartender, and then they went upstairs. As they parted, John said goodnight, and he kissed her in his sweet way that was becoming more reliable with each night, a little like he was. When she went into the room and closed the door behind her, she sat down on the bed and thought about what had incited this change inside him. The bed was vast and soft, and the covers were full of decoration and tassels and things, and there were these pretty glass doors that led out to the balcony, which overlooked the bustling city below.

John had started being different almost the very day he went on that fishing trip with Arthur. Arthur’s proposal that they travel up to find a better life had infused him with something, shaped him up a little bit. Some tiny seed of opportunity had taken root and started growing and he had just become a better person, and for her, the quiet, far away hope of lily farms in Wisconsin—and whether they were even real or some symbolic figments of the imagination did not matter—it had brought stillness and comfort and made her better, too.

She started digging through her valise and found a tin of tobacco and some rolling papers. She made up a few cigarettes, kept one out to smoke and put the rest in her pocket. She went outside, out the glass doors with a book of matches. Leaning against the balcony, she smoked and took her hair down and enjoyed the cool air of the evening, listening with intent to a conversation going on below between a couple of guys who sounded drunk and like they were going in on some cockamamie business venture together. They looked young and educated and all kinds of stupid. She was smiling.

“Sounds like they got it all figured out,” said John. He had come out as well, to the balcony. She was surprised to see him. It seemed the balcony was one big affair and it wrapped around the whole building, connecting all the rooms in all the hotel above the saloon.

Feeling warm around the rim of her collar, she offered him one of the cigarettes from her pocket as well as a match. He thanked her, took the cigarette, but he had his own match. He leaned on the balcony same as her. He’d taken a bath in the lake before they left for St. Denis with some of Mary Beth’s lavender soap she had stolen off a well-to-do passing through Valentine. He smelled clean, even as the ride over from Shady Belle had been rough and long.

“This ain’t nothing like Denver City,” said John, smoking, “but it sure is something.”

“Yeah,” said Abigail, looking down at her hands on the rail. “That was a whole different life.”

They stood beside one another, smoking for a while. At some point, John finished his cigarette, tossed it to the floor of the balcony and stamped it out with the toe of his boot. “Well, Abbie,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Wait,” she said, grabbing his hand.

“Something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” she said. She held his hand in both of hers. She looked down at his veins and how they traveled through his hands and his whole body, their outlines raised in his skin. His hands were big and rough, and like the dirt just lived inside them now. They had always been like that, from the first time he held her. “Come inside,” she said, finding his eyes. “With me. Stay with me tonight.”

John seemed to fix on her, focused. He was searching for the second thoughts back there, but he was coming up empty, because there were none. "Okay," he said.

She got up on her tip-toes, and she kissed him. This time, it was not a goodnight kiss but something more. He seemed taken by surprise at first, but he gave in fast, put his hands on her waist. When they parted, they looked softly at one another. John seemed expectant, but nervous. She took his hand and led him through the door to the bed where they undressed and found each other again, by the lights of the big city. Mary Beth had been right, in that Abigail would know when it was time, and it was. In truth, as she felt his warmth and his dedication to her and to her body, and she guided him inside of her and together, they left their old lives behind them, Abigail was no longer sure what she had been waiting for.

That night, Mary Beth was looking after Jack at Shady Belle with some help from Tilly and Miss Grimshaw. Together, as Mr. Pearson worked tirelessly to reorganize his provisions, the three of them baked a dewberry pie with berry crop that Charles had foraged and brought back upon his hunting excursion in the bayou. They shared the pie with the whole camp, and everybody had a piece save for Micah who sat in the shadows like some sort of outsider, cleaning his shotgun and whistling a tune. Javier played his guitar, and Uncle slapped his thigh and drank and led them together in a song. The Reverend went to bed early. Dutch had even come downstairs at some point. He seemed a little lost without Molly, even as it had been him who’d asked her to go. Hosea sat with him in the gazebo and they ate together, Mary Beth thought probably talking about the old days or the new days coming, or perhaps talking about nothing at all. She slept in her and Arthur’s bed with Jack, as there had been coyotes cackling in the distance, and he was frightened for some reason and did not want to be alone.

“I don’t like coyotes,” said Jack in his little voice.

“Don’t be afraid,” said Mary Beth. She told him a story of a nice coyote who wore a hat and a jacket and went into town one day to buy a Christmas ham for him and his wife. Jack listened and asked if she could include a knight in her story, and a battle with a dragon on the top of a mountain, and of course she obliged before they both fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Arthur sat alone, under the stars beside Moonstone Pond in Ambarino, thinking of Eagle Flies and how he had saved his life back in them oil fields, and the operation had been successful. It complicated everything. He’d caught a fish for dinner and cooked it plain and smoked and nursed a cup of gin. The earth was damp, and he had to sit on a log, but generally speaking, where he sat now was the same spot he and Mary Beth had camped some months before, on their way up to the Roanoke Valley, as they pried each other open for the first time and bonded over their broken dreams. A couple of busted umbrellas. That is what she had called them. The sounds of nature were loud and familiar here, and Diana slept soundly. He missed Sarah. He thought of her often, but he had promised Diana to Kieran, and it was getting to be time that he moved on, got himself a new mare.

That next morning he was gonna ride over to Annesburg to meet up with Texas Rangers Call and LaBeouf. The hideout they were gonna raid was in Roanoke Ridge near the Kamassa, and he had a pretty good idea of where. He hoped to stop through O’Creagh’s Run to say hello to Hamish and perhaps get some fishing in, and so he planned to get going real early. Even still, sleep eluded him. He drew a picture of Mary Beth’s face by the light of the fire, how he remembered her from their wedding day, and he drew the pond, too, and how the moonlight glanced through the broken clouds that still lingered after the storm. Sometimes lately, he would stop to remember how things had happened, and the fact he was a married man, and he would look down at the ring given to him by Mary Beth. It comforted him beyond the edges of the earth. He took a deep breath and tried thinking of horses. He knew there was a good stable south of Annesburg near Van Horn, or else he could always head back to St. Denis. That is where he might find a quality steed. He did not feel up to breaking a new horse. That is what he decided. The timeline was already tight, with him scheduled to get back just a day or two prior to the riverboat job, and if he was gonna break a horse, he wanted it to be a prized girl. A real nice filly he could take with him anywhere. He had heard of wild Arabians living like nomads up in the Grizzlies, and he thought, maybe one day, once he got all this shit behind him and they were actually headed north, they could stop in them mountains for a day or two, and he’d catch one, maybe two, maybe even one for each of them if John was willing to help and his patience held out.      

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #mary beth gaskill #rdr2 fanfic #john marston #abigail roberts #arthur x mary beth #john x abigail #arthur morgan x mary beth gaskill #john marston x abigail roberts #some big romance in this one #but not what you think #^.~ #a day earlier than expected #i had time to finish it today so i just did #and i posted #<3 #i'm sorry for the long wait #i hope you enjoy

[chuffyfan87]

Hiding. Part 26a

Cowritten with @disastrousintention.

-x-

The next couple of months passed without incident though Duffy became increasingly reluctant to venture far from the house. Partially out of fear of running into Andrew again but mostly because the effort involved was just too much.

She lay awake in the early hours staring at the ceiling unable to sleep. Today marked the beginning of week 28, a milestone that struck fear into her as this was the point when, only a few months previously, Emily had been born.

Charlie turned over onto his side in bed, his hand reached out in his sleep and rested against Duffy’s stomach.

She sighed, the movement succeeded in waking one of the twins who started kicking furiously against her father's hand.

The movement woke Charlie up too. He mumbled, “Sorry.” He moved again onto his back, “Didn’t mean to wake one of the twins.”

"Its ok. I was awake anyway." She sighed. "Go back to sleep."

“What’s on your mind?” He asked as his hand found Duffy’s.

"Who says there's anything on my mind?"

“You’re awake? And it’s—“ Charlie looked at the clock, “Three fifteen.”

"I'm seven months pregnant with twins, it's par for the course." She deflected.

“That’s true.” He smiled sadly, “Sure there’s nothing else?”

"You try sleeping well when you're this big!" She pointed out as she struggled to roll over and get comfortable again.

“You’re gorgeous.” He kissed her cheek.

She let out a breath as she finally settled onto her side facing him, the effort of the movement and the lack of space to fully expand her lungs conspiring against her.

He kissed her lips. “Feeling okay?”

"Trying to remember what it felt like to be able to breath properly."

“Not many months left now.” He replied.

"I'm not sure I'll make another 7 weeks." She sighed. Her doctor had suggested performing a planned section delivery at 35 weeks to try and avoid the risk of her going into labour naturally and subsequently putting too much strain on her heart.

“I don’t think these two monsters are ready to make an appearance just yet. Not like trouble.” He reassured.

"I keep thinking I can't possibly get any bigger and then another week rolls by." Despite the advanced stage of her pregnancy she'd put on little weight elsewhere. The only exceptions being that her cheeks were a little chubbier and her bum was slightly bigger.

“It’s nice to know they’re growing healthily though.”

Duffy was about to reply when Emily started to cry from her cot.

“I’ll go.” Charlie said.

"Thanks. She'd be waiting forever for me to get up!"

Charlie got up and went to Emily. “Ssh, what’s all the noise?” He asked as he picked her up and cuddled her.

Duffy huffed as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. "Is she hungry again? All she seems to do at the moment is eat!"

“Growth spurt?” He rocked her before placing her down on the changing mat.

"Seems that. I took her to get weighed yesterday and she'd leapt up the chart."

He laughed, “Definitely takes after her daddy.”

"Between you and the kids I'm surprised we have any food left in the house!" She chuckled.

“I don’t think we always do.” He admitted.

"And whose fault is that?" She laughed as she held out her arms to take Emily now that she had a clean nappy.

Emily grumbled as she was placed into her mum’s arms. “Mine.” He answered with a cheeky grin.

Duffy laughed. "Can you go make her a bottle?"

“Of course.” Charlie kissed both Duffy’s forehead and then Emily’s before he disappeared downstairs to make a bottle.

She bounced Emily to distract her whilst she waited to be fed. "You can't keep waking in the night like this when the twins are here you know! Otherwise your daddy and I will never get any sleep. Your daddy has a very important job so that's not OK you hear me?"

Emily smiled and continued to grumble.

"You really do take after your father - not listening to a word I say!" Feeling the little girl's gaze on her she sighed. "I really don't know how we're going to get through these next few weeks. Don't tell your daddy but I'm scared."

Emily frowned, not that she had any idea what her mum was telling her.

"I've been trying to put on a brave face for everyone... Pretending that I'm OK but even the slightest twinge makes me terrified."

Charlie had come back up but paused outside the door, Duffy not aware he was there.

"I can't shift this nagging feeling that something terrible will happen." She paused. "If something does happen I want you and your brothers to know that I love you all so much. I..." A tear ran down her cheek.

Emily placed her hand against her mum’s cheek. Charlie stepped into the room, “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

Duffy jumped. She hadn't realised he was there. "How long have you been stood there?"

“Not long.” He smiled, handing her the bottle as he got back into bed.

Emily snuggled close to her mum as she drank from the bottle.

“I have a good feeling,” Charlie said quietly.

"About what?" She asked, not quite meeting his eye.

"About everything. You and the babies."

"You heard the doctor just the same as I did though."

“I did.”

"How can you be so confident then?"

“Because I don’t think these babies want to come out early. Not like trouble. I think we can definitely get to the 35 week mark.”

"I hope you're right." She replied as she moved Emily to wind her. Moments later the little girl let out a loud burp.

“Excuse you, Missy. That was loud.” Charlie laughed.

"She's showing off." Duffy giggled.

Emily giggled sleepily and then yawned. Resting her head against her mum’s shoulder.

A few minutes later Duffy passed the sleeping tot back to Charlie to settle her into her cot.

He held her for a few minutes before placing her down in the cot. Within moments she was fast asleep, tiny little snores coming from her.

Duffy fidgeted slightly on the bed as she attempted to get comfortable again. She let out a frustrated sigh and attempted to rearrange the pillows.

“Do you want a hand?” He asked as he came back over to the bed.

"Please." She sighed.

Charlie helped Duffy rearrange the pillows that were on the bed. “Better?”

She mumbled sleepily though her back was still niggling her slightly. “Love you.” She sighed as she felt his hands on her lower back.

“Massage?” He whispered

"That would be nice." She murmured. "No funny business though!"

“Funny business? What kind of funny business?” He kissed her neck before he began to gently massage her lower back.

She giggled at the sensation of his lips on her neck.

He did it again, his teeth scrapping against her skin lightly.

She couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips.

He ran his tongue against her neck.

"Charlie!" She admonished with a giggle.

“What?” He smiled.

"I said no funny business!"

“I’m not.”

She chuckled softly feeling the drowsiness calling to her. Under Charlie's ministrations she was quickly asleep.

The next thing she knew it was morning. They were awoken by the sound of the doorbell.

Half asleep, Charlie threw on his dressing gown and went downstairs with the keys. He unlocked the door and opened it slightly - the door on its chain. “Hello?”

"You need to sign for this sir." The postman explained.

“What is it?” He yawned.

"Letter for a Ms Duffin sir. Looks official."

“Ok.” He took the door off the chain and signed for the letter. He wondered what it was.

By the time Charlie returned upstairs Duffy had grabbed her dressing gown and wandered onto the landing. "Who was it?" She asked.

“Letter for you.” Charlie handed it to her.

She studied it briefly. Please let it not be a court summons! She then noticed that the postmark wasn't local. She opened the letter and began to slide it out. As she saw the header on the letter she bit her lip and looked at Charlie anxiously.

He watched her as she took the letter and opened it. Catching her eye, he smiled slightly. “Is everything ok?”

"Its from the genetics lab." She whispered.

“Oh.” Charlie swallowed.

She glanced over at Peter's bedroom door before gesturing that they should head downstairs.

He nodded and went downstairs, he suddenly felt sick.

Reaching the lounge she slowly eased herself down onto the sofa. She took the letter fully out of the envelope and began to read it.

He sat down next to her and ran his fingertips up and down her arm.

Reaching the end of the letter she placed it down on the arm of the sofa. As she turned to Charlie a single tear slid down her cheek.

He gently wiped away the tear, “It’s ok. If the result isn’t what you expected, it doesn’t changed anything.”

"He's... He's..." She stammered.

“Andrew’s?”

"No." She took a steadying breath. "He's your son. He's ours, properly ours." More tears began to cascade.

Charlie wrapped his arms around Duffy and held her, “That’s brilliant!”

"All these years I've wondered... And now I know."

“I’ve always wanted him to be my son.”

"Did you suspect he might be?"

Charlie nodded.

"Why did you never ask me?"

“Because I didn’t want to ruin things.” He mumbled.

The silence between them stretched out for several moments. "Five kids growing up calling you daddy. That's quite a brood!" She giggled softly.

He laughed. “It’s a good job I got the snip then, isn’t it?” A couple of weeks back Charlie had eventually gone for his vasectomy, putting an end to his and Duffy’s spells of baby making.

"If its worked!" She snorted.

“We’ve just got to use contraception for the first 13 weeks.”

"Well that's rather a moot point currently."

“Well there’s no need whilst you’re pregnant with the twins.”

"I'm not sure the doctor would approve of such behaviour anyway!" She giggled.

“Good job the doctor doesn’t know what’s going on then, isn’t it?” He grinned.

"Do you really want to tempt fate? You know what happens when we do that!"

He laughed gently, “We... You always end up in trouble.”

"Hmm... You get all the fun and I get all the hard work!" She snorted.

“Exactly.”

"Never again." She told him as she shot him a glare, a playful smile on her lips.

“Sex, never again?”

She pondered the idea with a grin.

“I guess I’ll just have to get used to my right hand.”

She pouted.

“Unless I get used to your hand?” He smirked.

"So predictable!" She giggled with a shake of her head. She slowly, awkwardly, pushed herself up from the sofa. Grabbing the letter from the arm she headed towards the closed door.

“No I’m not!” He countered.

#chuffy #charlie and duffy #charlie fairhead #lisa duffin

[mayquita]

The Grape Incident (1/2)

I know, I should be writing some of my WIPs, but, although I had this idea in mind for some time, only yesterday I had enough inspiration to write it.

This is a gift for @saraswans , as a symbol of my gratitude for her continued support, for encouraging me and for pushing me to continue writing. I know that she deserves something better, at least that the story was complete, given the significant date, but I thought that, especially today, she would like to receive my humble gift. Sara, I'm going to finish it, I promise, but at least you already know what will happen in the second part, don’t you? Thank you for always being here when I need you.

(Note: I’ve written this in just a short time and it’s unbeta'd, so I apologize in advance for the many mistakes and nonsense.)

Summary: Emma and Killian are best friends and together with the rest of their friends and family decide to welcome the new year in a special way, traveling to Madrid. On New Year's Eve, Emma has a revelation, although maybe she learns it in an unexpected and a little terrifying form.

Word Count: ~ 2400

Ao3 / FFnet

The Grape Incident

"I can't believe we're flying over the ocean right now."

Emma was aware that she was behaving like a petulant girl since they had boarded the plane — even before if she was honest with herself — but that didn't stop her from continuing her little tantrum. "I still don't know why we had to choose Spain as a destination to celebrate New Year. Couldn't we have gone to... I don't know, to Maine?"

Killian chuckled at her side, but his expression immediately changed the moment she threw him a glare, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he scratched behind his ear.

"We all decided to do something special to welcome to the new year." Mary Margaret reminded her across the aisle, waving her hand encompassing the rows of seats around. The fact that she used the same tone as when she addressed her six-year-old son, far from reassuring Emma did nothing but increase her irritation. "You were there when we chose Madrid because we thought it would be fun." She added in a calm voice and in a tone perhaps too condescending for her liking.

Emma huffed in response as she leaned her head back against her seat, wishing the sleep would soon overtake her.

Killian took advantage of that moment to leaning close to her and whisper in her ear, "Admit it, Swan, all those complaints are nothing but your poor attempt to hide that you are terrified by the flight. You can pretend with others, but not with me, love."

She didn't need to look at him to know that a stupid grin would be adorning his lips. He was right, of course, because after all, he was her best friend and he knew her better than anyone, better than herself, sometimes.

This wasn't the first time she traveled by plane, but it was the first one she did it over such a wide surface of water like a damn ocean. For some reason, that had activated all her alerts, causing nerves to grip her stomach while her mind imagined a thousand possible scenarios, each one more terrifying. She'd like to be in the place of her ten-year-old son Henry, who had had no problem falling asleep shortly after taking off and he was now sleeping placidly in his seat next to the window, his head resting on Killian's shoulder.

"You should try to sleep, I still have a free shoulder." To emphasize his words, Killian pulled her into him and surrounded her shoulders with his free arm. "Or I can try to distract you, you know," he suggested while waving his eyebrows in a naughty manner.

Emma rolled her eyes and, before accepting his suggestion, she looked around. Across the aisle, her sister-in-law Mary Margaret had finally succumbed to sleep after their brief talk, as had her nephew Leo and her brother David. Then she turned her head a little more, catching the image of Elsa, Killian's sister-in-law and Ruby, the other single member of the group, along with the two of them, also slept peacefully. Finally, she peeked through the gap between the seats to check that Liam, Killian's brother, and the twins were also asleep. So there was only she and Killian left.

She let out a sigh of resignation as she settled herself beside Killian, letting his arm encircle her again as she snuggled against him looking for his warmth. "Okay, do your magic and make me sleep." She mumbled against his chest, trusting in Killian's power to get her calmed enough. Maybe it was the rhythmic beat of his heart beating against her ear, or maybe his melodious voice that continued whispering nonsenses, or the way his fingers tangled in her hair, the fact was her eyelids began to become heavy, her muscles relaxed and the incipient sleep finally invaded her. Her last thought before succumbing was how lucky she was to have such a fantastic best friend.

"Emma... Emma darling, we've arrived." A few hours later Killian's voice came to her in a muffled whisper. Still navigating between consciousness and sleep, Emma snuggled closer against him, reluctant to leave his arms, at least until she heard the shriek coming from her son.

"Mom! Wake up! We finally arrived!" Henry's excited voice made the last vestiges of her sleep leave her, though she couldn't keep a groan from escaping her lips. The adventure in Madrid, for better or for worse, had just begun.

//

The rental house in which they would stay, was huge and far enough from the center of the city so that their rest would not be disturbed. The four boys shared a bedroom, each couple also had their own bedroom assigned. That left two more bedrooms to be shared by the three singles of the group, so Emma ended up sleeping in the same room as Ruby, Killian being the privileged not to share his bedroom.

Although Emma had been named by common accord  — even by Killian and Henry, the traitors —The Grinch of the group, at least as regards this vacation, she had to acknowledge that she was having a good time.

At least if she ignored the continuous noise, the crowd in the streets, the cold and the endless lines. They had to wait for hours, HOURS, to get a table at the most famous chocolate cafeteria in the city, but, according to Mary Margaret, who had previously studied all the traditions and typical activities of the city, they couldn't go through Madrid without trying the chocolate with churros from San Gines. — And she was right, the wait was totally worth it.

But Emma did appreciate walking through the streets of the city, discovering its corners, its historical places, the Christmas decorations and even enjoying with the children the Christmas show that a famous department store offered every year.

There was something she wasn't willing to do, though, and it was to attend an event called pre-grapes or something like that, that basically consisted of a pre-New Year's Eve rehearsal. The event would take place at the Puerta del Sol and if it was always already crowded the times they had passed through, she didn't even want to imagine how it would be during that rehearsal. But the children were quite excited, so they decided it would be better if they split into two groups, the men would take the children to the Pre-Grapes thing, while the girls enjoyed an evening for themselves.

They decided to go out for a drink at one of the many bars in the city. They hadn't been there for ten minutes, when the interrogation began. "So, when are you going to make it official?" Ruby asked arching an eyebrow at her, before taking the bottle of beer to her lips.

"Make official what exactly?"

"That you and Killian are together, of course." Mary Margaret added, as if it was obvious what they were talking about.

Emma ignored her friends after rolling her eyes. She had grown bored that they always asked the same question at the slightest opportunity. The answer was always the same — there's nothing official to announce, we're just friends. This time, she didn't even bother trying.

"Come on, Emma, maybe we were used to seeing you together back home, but here the thing between you has acquired a special dimension." Elsa also decided to contribute, to her dismay.

She suppressed the groan that threatened to escape her lips. Instead, she shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't see any difference." She simply added, suddenly very interested in the plate of chips on the table.

"Who is taking care of your son right now?" Mary Margaret insisted.

"Do I have to remind you that Henry is also with his uncle?"

"With his uncles." Elsa hurried to point. "Henry considers Liam as his uncle, and Declan and Connor as his cousins."

"Okay, but I still don't get the point. Henry is a lucky kid who has a lot of family that loves him and cares about him. I don't know what that has to do with Kilian."

"Who would you trust your son with his life?" Emma didn't bother answering Mary Margaret's question. "Killian is Henry's father to all intents and purposes, except in blood and in the name."

They were right. Killian had been present in her son's life since he was born. Emma's life had been far from simple. She had suffered different traumas, rejections and abandonment that had left her with her heart broken beyond repair. But just when she was in her lowest moments, pregnant, in jail, after suffering the betrayal of Neal, Henry's father, her biological brother came to her rescue, getting hope to become part of Emma's life again.

Their parents had died when Emma was three years old and David was eight. They stayed together for the first three years, but an error or a misunderstanding caused them to be separated, sending each one to a different part of the country. It took David years to find his little sister again, but when he did, they never separated again.

It turned out that reuniting with her lost brother also meant adding more people to her small circle, people she would end up trusting completely. Liam was David's best friend, so it was inevitable that he and his brother would become part of that circle. Ruby and Mary Margaret were friends since childhood. Elsa was the last to join the group when she started dating Liam one year after Henry's birth.

Emma would always be in debt to Liam, who became his lawyer without even knowing her, getting her out of prison before Henry was born, and thus causing her baby to come into the world in a quiet environment, surrounded by people who loved him even before he was born.

For some reason, the bond between Killian and Henry was created almost from the beginning, probably in tune with the growing friendship that blossomed among them once her first moments of reticence were over. Emma had been able to see behind Killian's mask of cockiness and what she had seen had satisfied her enough to trust him even with the care of her son when he was barely a baby.

Killian had ended up moving to the same building as Emma and Henry, to help her with the upbringing. The bond created between them had only consolidated over the years and Henry adored Killian. Emma could not be more grateful that her son had Killian as a stable father figure, as someone constant in his life.

"I think we all agree that Killian is the closest thing to a father that Henry will never have, but I don't see what that has to do with Killian and me being together."

"It has everything to do, Emma. He is a father to your son, he is your best friend, the person you trust the most."

Mary Margaret wasn't wrong. Killian was everything to her. He offered her security, and stability. He was the last person she talked to every day, the person she first addressed when she had something interesting to tell. And in addition to being a decent guy, he was terribly handsome, causing the butterflies in her stomach to flutter every time he was in her presence.

"We're fine like that, we don't need anything else." She replied weakly, being aware that her voice was not convincing at all. But it was true, the relationship they had was almost perfect, in no way did she want to risk something failing and end up ruining everything they had built over the last ten years.

"You already behave like a couple, but without enjoying the more pleasurable part." The smirk drawn on Ruby's face and the salacious arch of her brow left no doubt about what would be the that pleasurable part for her.

Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol going through her system, or the fact that her imagination betrayed her, bringing to her mind images of her and Killian involved in such pleasurable activities. Whatever it was caused Emma to feel a blush crawling from her neck to her cheeks, her blood running hot in her veins.

"I don't know what you two are waiting for, honestly." Elsa added, giving her a soft smile.

"Enough, girls, we haven't crossed the ocean to keep the same conversation as always. We're in Madrid, where there is a bar on every corner. We have the night free of responsibilities, so stop talking and drink more." To emphasize her words, she took the glass in front of her and drank the shot in one gulp, wanting her friends to drop the subject and join her.

For a few seconds, the only thing she heard was the music of the bar and the sound of people talking and singing around her in a language she didn't understand, while her friends looked at each other first and then gave her sidelong glances. Just as she began to find herself uncomfortable at the scrutiny, Mary Margaret's lips lifted slightly, while Elsa nodded subtly and Ruby rolled her eyes as she dropped her hands in her lap in defeat.

Emma wasn't able to suppress the sigh of relief that escaped her mouth and was about to ask for another shot, when Mary Margaret addressed her again.

"Well, you win for this time, but just let me tell you one last thing. I bet the next round of drinks that I know who will be the only man waiting for our return home safe and sound."

Emma didn't need to bet, since she was also sure of the answer. Indeed, when they arrived home a few hours later, laughing and humming, the alcohol running through their veins making its effect, the first thing they found after opening the front door, was someone asleep on the couch, with the tv remote control in one hand and snoring softly. A warm sensation spread to her heart as her stomach fluttered and her gaze was unable to move away from the image of Killian falling asleep while waiting for her to return.

Thanks for reading and Happy New Year everyone!

#cs ff #cs au #mayquita writes #my cs writings #the grape incident #i know it's a silly thing #but that's how my muse is working lately #captain swan #captain swan ff

[worldofblade]

Head Assassin-Between the Chapters:  Tae Chapter 3

BTS Fic:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | (T-1) | (T-2) | 5 | 6 | (T-3) | 7 | (T-4) |

Warnings:  Nothing really, although I guess I will state again that this is a dark!fic, and the characters are not so much cute and fluffy.  Also, remember that these are chapters that don’t really have anything to do with the main plot, but you really do need to read everything to understand exactly what is going on.

Notes:  Huge thanks to my Beta @blerdygirlwrites . Also, thanks for the love that you guys show for my story, it means a lot.  Love to hear what you think etc...

~~~

Taehyung stared in awe at the little boy who sat cuddled against Eunseo.  Hong-Do, in Taehyung’s eyes, was perfect.  Big brown eyes, and delicate, almost elfin, features.  The boy was beautiful.  Taehyung had paid the babysitter, and then commandeered the woman’s living room for this meeting.  Yet, so far, they had done nothing except stare at each other.

“Hongi, remember how I told you that we were going to be meeting one of Mommy’s friends soon?” Eunseo asked, smiling down at Hong-Do.  The boy nodded, never taking his eyes off Taehyung.  He didn’t appear scared, but still had a tight grip on his mother.

“I’m Taehyung.” Taehyung said, sitting down on the floor scooting closer to the two on the couch. It annoyed him that Eunseo had called him “a friend”, but he would deal with that later.  Even he knew that he couldn’t bombard the child with a lot of information at once.  “I’m so happy to meet you.”

“We are going to go live in Taehyung’s house.” Eunseo continued, her cheerful and bright voice making it all seem like they were going on a big adventure.  “You will have a big yard to run around and play in!”

“Toys?” Hong-Do asked, his 2-year-old thoughts going to the most important thing.

“All the toys you want!” Taehyung jumped in, moving closer.  He would buy a whole damn toy store, if that was what it took.  He felt immediately rewarded when Hong-Do gave him a shy, but excited smile. Taehyung felt his heart melt at the sight, and knew that he would give the boy everything he asked for in this world.

“It will be so much fun!” Eunseo gave another huge smile, and then set Hong-Do down on the floor. “Go and start packing up your bag in the play room.  I will come help in a minute.”  

Jumping in place a few times, with excitement, Hong-Do made his way to the room where Taehyung had banished the babysitter, babbling about all his new toys.

Eunseo watched Taehyung as Hong-Do left.  He had a huge smile on his face as his eyes followed the boy out of the room.  She could see that the hybrid was enamored with her son. It had shocked her how calm and nice Taehyung had been while meeting Hong-Do.  She had prepared herself for Taehyung making demands, which would then cause Hong-Do to start acting out or crying.  So far, nothing had come of her fears, and things had been somewhat easy; but she knew that the storm was coming.  A 2-year-old was temperamental and easily angered.  Adding a Scorch to the mix?  Well, she would have to stay on her toes.

“He’s beautiful!” Taehyung said, still looking at the door that Hong-Do had gone through.

“Yes.  He is also very smart, and quick on his feet.” Eunseo smiled when Taehyung looked back at her.  “His vocabulary is huge for a 2-year-old, and his motor skills are above average as well. I’ve been worried that I don’t have the resources he needs to advance his skills.  That is why I am so thankful that I was able to finally contact you.”

Eunseo assessed his reaction to her statement.  She knew that he was still furious with her, but also knew that he would feel proud that he had what she needed.  That he was the one who could help them.  Taehyung wanted to feel needed, so for her son’s survival she would damn well make him feel needed.  She already knew that she could survive hell and even though Yoongi might have forced her down the path of this plan, for the sake of her son, she knew that she could and would stay on this path come hell or high water.  Taehyung was the one hybrid that actually could keep them safe from all the others. Eunseo wondered if the others knew how their plan could backfire?  They had concocted this whole story to make Taehyung more manageable, but in reality they had handed the Scorch a prize that he would do anything to keep.  Even if it meant killing everyone else.   Well, that wasn’t her problem.  She would stand by Taehyung and laugh with him if he decided that the world needed to burn, as long as her son was safe.

“Mama!”

“Coming, Hongi.” Eunseo called to the boy’s excited yell, and then walked to the room.

After a beat, Taehyung followed, leaning against the doorframe and taking it all in.  Hong-Do jumped around the room, bringing back toys to try and push into his bag. Eunseo calmly, but firmly told the boy no.  Taehyung tensed when for a moment Hong-Do looked like he was about to cry and put up some sort of fight, but Eunseo was able to navigate the danger well.  She distracted him with zipping up his bag, somehow making it seem like a job only special boys got to do.  Looking at Hong-Do and Eunseo, Taehyung knew that he would do anything to keep them with him.  To make them his.  Woe be to anyone who tried to take them away from him.

 ```

 “Does he think the genetics guy is his father?”

Even in the darkness of the car, Eunseo could see Taehyung’s hands tighten on the steering wheel,  from where she sat in the backseat with a sleeping Hong-Do.  The boy had crashed minutes into the car ride.

“No.  I always called him a friend.” Eunseo said.

“A friend.  Like how you introduced me?” Taehyung’s annoyance could be heard.

“I had to go slow.” Eunseo hurried to defend herself.  “I will make sure he knows you are his father, don’t worry Taehyung.  We just need to take it a step at a time.  He is going to be throwing enough tantrums with the new places and things.  He is excited and acting well now, but soon everything will be too much for him, and the terrible twos are called that for a reason.”

“But he is…normal?” Taehyung quietly asked the tension noticeable in his shoulders as well.  It took a minute for Eunseo to understand what exactly he was asking.

“I’ve seen nothing in his actions that points to him being anything other than a normal 2-year-old boy.” Eunseo said, watching as Taehyung’s posture relaxed.  “He rages, and throws fits because he gets juice in a blue cup when he wanted the green cup, but so do all the other toddlers in the world.”

“Then he isn’t-”

“I don’t think he is a Scorch.” Eunseo cut off his worried question.  “I mean, time will tell, but so far he is no better or worse than any other child.”

“Good.”

Eunseo found it interesting that Taehyung would be so worried that Hong-Do would be the natural Scorch that the scientists wanted him to be.  She would have thought that the hybrid would want his son to follow in his footsteps.  Be a copy in every way of himself.  Apparently, judging by how Taehyung’s shoulders relaxed when she said Hong-Do seemed normal, she had been wrong.  That was interesting, and it also set her mind a little more at ease.  She was sure that she would still have to keep her guard up, but at least she now knew that Taehyung had no immediate plans to indoctrinate her son into the ways of the Scorch.  She felt a reluctant admiration for the hybrid.

 ```

 “So, this is crazy, I know.” Eunseo adjusted the still sleeping Hong-Do on her lap as she looked at the two women who were still staring with huge stressed out eyes at her. “It’s ok.  We will get through this together.”

Taehyung had practically pranced into the Song Manor, excitedly telling everyone that Eunseo was his soon-to-be-wife, and that Hong-Do was his child.  Then before anyone could say or do anything, called for the servants to start getting rooms ready, going up the stairs to oversee things.  Leaving Eunseo to try and put together the pieces.

“I can imagine what it must feel like.” Eunseo sighed, gently placing Hong-Do down on the couch cushion and looked at the Song women.  “Here is a woman and child, of unknown origin, being brought into your home, and you’re expected to just roll with it.” Eunseo felt her face heat up, as she tried to pull down on the skirt of her dress.  Damn Taehyung and how he felt no need to even give her a heads up on the situation!  Even Yoongi hadn’t mentioned that she would have to deal with traumatized noble women. So here she was, feeling like a fool in her too-tight gold dress that hardly covered anything.  Damn them all!

“This is Lieutenant Kim’s home.  He can do whatever he feels is best.” The older woman robotically answered, pasting a smile on her face.  Eunseo saw the younger girl follow suit.

“Wow, he really did a number on you two.” Eunseo said, finding herself laughing.  It was crazy, really.  How the three of them, who would normally never even see, let alone meet each other; were now going to have to become each other’s life lines.  “Listen, ladies.  I am sure you’ve done an amazing job up until now trying to navigate the terror that is Kim Taehyung, but now that I am here things will become much better. I will give you the skills to not only deal with him, but become happier while doing so.”  Eunseo felt déjà vu wash over her as she began her spiel. She use to do this for the newbie girls that would be brought in at the hybrid center.  Suddenly her confidence was back.  No longer was she intimidated by the grand house, and the obnoxiously wealthy women before her.  When it came right down to it, they were all fuck-girls now.

 ```

 “Interesting that I was not told anything about this.”

“I guess the powers that be, didn’t think the great Lieutenant Park needed to know about little old me.” Eunseo didn’t even try to hide the disdain in her voice as she moved to tuck the blankets around Hong-Do better.

The Song women had retired to their rooms, after being promised a future Hybrid 101 class by Eunseo and after assuring Taehyung that his new family was perfect in every way. Taehyung had then called Jimin to come over and see his son.   Eunseo and Jimin were currently standing in Hong-Do’s room, while Taehyung went into the hall to take a phone call.  The Anchor was noticeably upset.

“If he didn’t look almost exactly like Tae, I would call you a liar.” Jimin said, moving closer to Eunseo.

“Sorry you can’t try to use that against me.” Eunseo stood her ground, even when Jimin invaded her personal space.  He looked her up and down, smirking when she pulled down on the skirt of her dress.

“Seems having a kid didn’t ruin your body.” Jimin felt a thrill when Eunseo glared at him and took a step closer.

“I guess we are right back to where we use to be.” Eunseo let her voice become softer as she moved towards Jimin’s ear.  “Where you lust after me, but will never ever get me.”  Moving away, she gave him a smirk of her own when he briefly balled up his fists.  

At the hybrid facility, she had been told that not only had Jimin requested her so-called services, but had almost come unglued when he had been told that Taehyung came first.  Then things had gotten worse, when Eunseo became what amounted to Taehyung’s property.  It seemed, that even though Jimin and Taehyung were an amazing Anchor-Scorch team there was still rivalry to be had.  Although, in this case it was one sided.  Eunseo was sure that Taehyung had never been told about Jimin’s desire for her.  So, it was Jimin who was left to stew about Taehyung having what he wanted.  Even the knowledge that Eunseo had absolutely no say in the matter had not kept Jimin from holding what could only be called a grudge against her.

“Isn’t he perfect!” Taehyung was back, happily standing between Jimin and Eunseo looking down at Hong-Do.  Wrapping his arm around Eunseo’s waist, he brought her closer and then turned to Jimin with a huge smile, not noticing how the other man’s eyes briefly hardened when he looked at the arm around Eunseo.

“Yes, the child is perfect.” Jimin returned Taehyung’s smile with one of his own, and Eunseo was hard put to figure out if the smile was genuine or not.  That was one of the things that was so baffling about Park Jimin, she never knew if he was sincere when it came to Taehyung.  They had a bond that was unbreakable, and she was sure they would willingly  lay their lives down for each other. And yet, she was also sure that if Jimin could somehow force her away from Taehyung and into his arms he would do it.  Which would then cause Taehyung to kill him to get back what was his. Their relationship was a hard concept to grasp.

“So, tell me again how Eunseo was able to escape the facility, taking your child to safety?” Jimin asked, as he and Taehyung moved away.  Eunseo sighed and then brushed the hair out of Hong-Do’s eyes.  She knew that Jimin was searching for plot holes. She hoped Yoongi knew what he was doing, as she just bet he was about to hear from a mad Park Jimin and why he wasn’t told something this important about his Scorch.

Gently sitting down on the bed, she felt tiredness wash over her.  Looking around the huge room done up in soft greens and blues, she tried to tell herself how it really was better for her son; that Taehyung could not only protect them, but could also giver her son the life that he deserved; how it was old hat to deal with hybrids, and that she didn’t need to be so worried. Feeling tears pool, Eunseo wiped at her eyes and then pulled back the blankets.  She had planned to cuddle just for a little while with her son, seeking comfort in the nightly ritual.  Soon the warmth of the blankets and the stress of the day caught up to her, and she was fast asleep.

```

 Taehyung stood over mother and son in bed, debating what to do.  He knew what he wanted to do, he wanted to take Eunseo to his bed, where she rightfully belonged, but some foreign part of him also wanted them to be comfortable and feel safe.  He wasn’t even sure where these thoughts and feeling were coming from, but here they were.

Turning, Taehyung left the room.  Returning with blankets and pillows.  Dropping them on the floor, he arranged them before turning off the light and settling down in the nest he built for himself.  If his family wasn’t going to come to him, he would go to them.

 ```

 Yoongi forced himself not to chuckle at Jimin’s state when the other hybrid joined him at the bar. They had decided to meet at a hotel restaurant after Yoongi had gotten an angry call from Jimin.  The Intel was not shocked, and found it all a bit funny. He knew that Jimin would not be happy about this little set-up that he and Namjoon constructed, but also knew that Jimin didn’t have any say in the matter.

“So, how’s the happy family?” Yoongi’s smile became wider when Jimin just glowered at him.  “I bet it was so nice to see Eunseo again, seeing as you and she have a history.”  Yoongi took a drink from his beer bottle, enjoying the tick that started in the other hybrid’s jaw.  Things were starting to get fun.

“Am I going to be told the real story, or are we sticking with the bullshit that was told to Taehyung?” Jimin sat, ignoring Yoongi’s last statement and gesturing for his own drink.

“No bullshit, all truth.” Yoongi dead panned, causing Jimin to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, because I’m going to believe that Eunseo would willingly give up her freedom to get help from Taehyung.”

“Just because you are pissed that she wants to fuck Taehyung and not you, doesn’t mean it’s not true.” Yoongi loved seeing Jimin’s hands tighten on his glass after that statement. It was a sick little game of his to try and get a rise out of Jimin.  Anchors were all about being level headed and thinking things through, he enjoyed when he could break one of Jimin’s kind.

“Fine.  Don’t tell me.” Jimin drained his drink and then threw a couple of bills on the bar.  “Just remember, Eunseo beat the system before.  She could do it again, this time with Taehyung in tow.”

Yoongi watched Jimin leave, and didn’t like the feeling of foreboding that seemed to hammer at the back of his mind. Trying to brush it off, he finished his beer and then made his own way out of the restaurant.  He decided that he was going to need to keep an even closer eye on the beautiful Eunseo.

#kpopwonderlandtag #bts hybrid au #bts fic #bts dark fic #dark!taehyung #dark taehyung #bts taehyung #dark bts #dark!jimin #dark jimin #bts jimin #bts au fanfic #bts #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #head assassin #fic by worldofblade #taehyungxoc

[theaurorfileshq]

C E D R I C   F O N T A I N E  /  A U R O R   C O R P O R A L

AGE:  Thirty-Two

BADGE NUMBER: J47H08

BLOODSTATUS: Pureblood / Halfblood (No-Maj mother).

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cisgender Male, He/Him

IDENTIFYING FEATURES: Scruffy beard. Reading glasses. A slight limp in his left leg. Scar on the left side of his face. Tattoo.

STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

(+): Healing magic, transfiguration, charms, flying, DADA, no-maj studies.

(-):  Study of ancient runes, divination, physical limitations.

BACKGROUND:

The circumstances of Cedric’s birth are a very well guarded secret in the Fontaine household due to his biological mother’s blood status: Ced is the result of a scandalous affair between Mr. Fontaine and a No-Maj. To the humiliation of Mrs. Fontaine, her husband insisted the baby be officially adopted by the family and raised as their son. Cedric himself wasn’t aware of his true parentage for quite some time.

It was obvious from the moment the child was brought into the Fontaine home that he would never truly receive the same care and privileges that any of his future half-sibling would. Mrs. Fontaine couldn’t stand the sight of the boy and made her distaste known whenever opportunity presented itself. Nothing Cedric did was ever good enough for her and she wasn’t shy about mentioning that to ‘her son’. Mr. Fontaine, while glad he had a son, wasn’t exactly the warmest of fathers either.

When Ceres came into the world Cedric was four years old. At that time he was too young to understand exactly what his sister’s birth meant for his future and was beyond thrilled to finally have a sibling. Since he was no longer an only child, and Ceres was considered the only official heir to the Fontaine bloodline (an openly recognized fact), Cedric was pushed aside from all family honors which would normally befall the first born in favor of his sister. He didn’t mind it then and sure as hell doesn’t mind it now.

Cedric found out about his true parentage, and blood status, a few weeks before leaving for Ilvermorny. Their parents were having a heated argument in a room adjacent to the one in which he and his sister were playing and the children heard some things which were not meant for their ears. At first it came as quite the shock to little Cedric, discovering that not only did he have another mother but she was also a No-Maj. It did help explain why his step-mother, that’s how he started calling Mrs. Fontaine, was being so cold and distant towards him: he was an irremovable stain on her pride and her family’s reputation, should word come out. Both children agreed to never speak of that incident ever again, not with anyone else present at least.

Ever since learning this life-changing secret Cedric became curious about his real mother. Who was she? Where was she from? Was she upset about having to give up her son? Did she miss him? A million questions were racing through the eleven-year-old’s mind. He began looking for clues about who the woman might have been or where he might find her. He also became increasingly interested in No-Maj culture, something he tried to keep hidden from his parents. Since it was all a part of him, he felt like he needed to understand how the No-Maj world worked as well.

In Ilvermorny, Cedric had to make a choice between Horned Serpent and Pukwudgie. Since he didn’t feel like much of a scholar Ced decided to join Pukwudgie. He tried his best to be sociable and make as many friends as possible while in school so he wouldn’t feel as lonely at the wizarding institution as he did at home (when his sister wasn’t around). He also tried his best to be an exemplary student, not for the sake of credit, competition or maybe some praise at home, but for himself. At Ilvermorny he also discovered just how much he actually liked Quidditch.

Flying is something Cedric is great at so he had no trouble hopping on a broom during his first year. He trained regularly so he’d get in good enough shape to be on his house team and, when the time came, he tried out for Chaser. He got the position and stayed on the team from fourth to seventh year. It was during that period that he decided he wanted to be a professional Quidditch player, maybe even Captain of the national team someday.

Shortly after his graduation from Ilvermorny, Cedric packed his bags and left the family home in Manhattan. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was headed but he knew staying in New York was no longer an option. Mrs. Fontaine had made it plenty clear over the years that he wasn’t wanted and Ced had grown beyond tired of her indirect insults and constant complains. It hurt to leave Ceres behind but he knew his sister would be alright and hopefully, she would forgive him for going away and missing her graduation.

A close friend from school mentioned the fact that they had inherited a home in Louisiana from a deceased aunt and that they were heading down there to check it out. They said Cedric was more than welcome to join them until he figured out what his next step was going to be. He accepted without hesitation. Two weeks after leaving the Fontaines, Cedric was living in Baton Rouge, helping his friend set up the house. During the year he spent with his former housemate, Cedric had his career change. His friend was trying out for the New Orleans Auror Academy and managed to convince Ced to join as well.

Thinking that there wasn’t any harm in trying (after all pretty much everyone in his family was in the business, Ceres would probably join out of school as well; he could get in on name alone) Cedric decided to go for it. His plan of becoming a professional Quidditch player was starting to sound less and less like an actual plan and more like a dream anyway, with each passing day. So, when he turned 18, he signed up for the Auror Academy in New Orleans.

Cedric also chose to become an Auror to prove that he was just as capable as the rest of the Fontaines to carry on the legacy. Although he did not truly feel like that was his calling, Cedric still gave training 200% of his effort. Soon enough he discovered he didn’t completely hate the job. It slowly grew on him until the point when, on graduation day, he was actually excited for having taken that step and was ready to go out and do his job. Perhaps he did have it in his blood after all, albeit partly.

He hoped he’d be kept on with the Central Squad after graduation, or at least wouldn’t be stationed anywhere too close to home. His wish did come true and he was offered a position in Lafayette, LA, where he stayed for four years. That’s where he also advanced in his career. Then he was moved to Houston, TX for a period of what was supposed to be three years. He only stayed there for one year. In Houston, he was noticed by the Chief of MACUSA’s Central Squad and offered a job with the Magical Congress. Initially, he was reluctant to accept it, knowing he might have to go to New York at some point, but his friend convinced him it doesn’t get any better than working for MACUSA and so he accepted the offer.

While stationed in Lafayette, Ced fell in love with one of his fellow Aurors. It took him a while but eventually, he asked her out. They dated for about a year before he worked up the courage to propose. Instead of a huge wedding party, the couple eloped a few days after the proposal and got married with just a few close friends as witnesses. Everything was going great in their marriage until Cedric was moved to MACUSA and his wife had to stay in Houston. During that period Cedric had to travel between home and work while the couple tried their best to keep the relationship alive. And for the most part, it seemed like love was enough to keep them afloat. 

On his last official case with MACUSA’s Central Squad, Ced was partnered once again with Winter; it was quite common for the two of them to go on cases together. They were involved in a stand-off with a group of wannabe dark wixes somewhere in Texas when one caught Winter off guard and, instead of hitting his opponent with a curse, Winter hit Cedric by mistake. Ced woke up in the hospital two weeks after the incident and couldn’t remember much from that night. For a while he believed he was hit by one of the dark wixes, not Winter, so he didn’t understand why his partner had decided to up and switch squads. Later he found out the truth and it hit him like a ton of bricks.

Doctors weren’t very optimistic about Ced making a full recovery from his injuries: he’d taken quite the fall and was left with nerve damage in his left arm and leg from the fractures. Not enough to cause paralysis but enough to be a problem, even in the long run. He didn’t give up on getting better, despite what healers said. He went to physical therapy every day for two years and tried every available treatment, magical or otherwise. Eventually, he recovered, partially at least. His leg is much better, although the sensation of numbness hits from time to time and he’s got a slight limp. His arm will take more time: he can move it now but still can’t feel shit with it, except pins and needles, occasionally.

His personality changed after the accident, Ced became moody and withdrawn. He also started fighting with his wife more frequently and spending more time on friends’ couches than at home. Eventually, about six months after the accident, she asked him for a divorce. She wanted to focus on her own growing career and, since life wasn’t the same for either of them anymore, Ced decided to agree. He signed the papers and they went their different ways.  

Since it was clear he wasn’t going back on the field anytime soon, but his superiors weren’t too happy to retire him either since he still had valuable skills, Cedric was moved to a desk job with Central Squad Internal Affairs, something he finds incredibly dull. Plus, he hates having to investigate other Aurors. He did manage to make Corporal during his time with I.A. but he’s not exactly thrilled about it; that’s not how he wanted to advance.

One morning Ced’s boss was contacted by Chief Snow and asked to send one of his investigators to the Eastern Squad, undercover, to look into a possibly corrupt Auror. They couldn’t send someone from the ES ‘because it would be obvious why they were there. Cedric wasn’t expecting it, due to his injury, but he got picked for the job. Word about the actual extent of his injuries hadn’t gone out, nor was his transfer a very high profile move. So nobody really knew what exactly he was up those days. He got his Auror credentials back, temporarily at least, and sent to the ES to investigate. He was told to stick to easy cases if he had to take any so his injuries wouldn’t be a problem.

While he’s happy to be back doing the job he loves, it’s still bittersweet. It’s temporary and very limited and it makes Cedric wish, some days, that he hadn’t gotten picked for the job. He still tries to be useful while on the squad. He’s got a bit of an addiction to a range of pills and potions which keep him functional. He uses now more than ever ‘because he doesn’t want his disability to show while he’s on the Eastern Squad, it might blow his cover.

#retired auror

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

130lb of Ukrainian Courage (pt11)

Lip arrives as Ian is blending a breakfast smoothie for Yevgeny and adding a dash of nutmeg to Mickey’s coffee pot. Ian doesn’t have a chance to say more than hello before Lip is pushing past him, storming into the house

“MICKEY! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, ASSHOLE?”

“Lip! What the fuck?”

Ian grabs his irate brother’s jacket and tries to haul him back. Ordinarily Ian overpowers Lip easily, he is taller and outweighs him by thirty pounds since Lip took to his latest detox. Today though, fury is propelling Lip forward and Ian merely slows his step.

“MICKEY!”

The sound of feet hitting the floor upstairs makes both men look up. Ian grabs hold of Lip’s arm properly and hisses

“Yevgeny is up there!”

“Then tell that fuc… You!”

Lip lunges forward as Mickey appears on the stairs. He is in a tank top and a pair of what are clearly Ian’s jeans from the way they bunch loosely at Mickey’s ankles.

“What the fuck are you yellin’ about, shithead?”

Mickey is rubbing sleep from his eyes as he comes down the stairs but his body is thrumming with readiness for a fight. Ian places himself between his brother and boyfriend, hands raised defensively

“Lip, what the fuck is going on?”

“I’d like to know that too.”

Mickey’s fists are curled gently by his side, top lip twisted upwards in a challenging sneer. Lip is all clenched jaw and huge eyes. Neither looks at all impressed with the display of the other, but Mickey is on home turf and his blood is getting hotter with every second Lip stares at him.

“Cat got your fuckin’ tongue, Philip?”

“You’re a piece of shit.”

Lip spits and Mickey pushes forward aggressively, relenting only slightly as Ian firmly presses his palm against his chest.

“Mick – don’t. Yev is upstairs.”

Blue eyes flick briefly toward Ian and then back to Lip.

“Yeah, and he just got woken up with a nasty fuckin’ start, so why don’t we go outside?”

Lip nods curtly and both exit the house, brushing roughly past Ian.

“Dad? What’s going on?”

Yev is peering around the banister, his bottom lip caught anxiously between his teeth.

“Papa and Uncle Lip are working something out.”

Ian hurries up the stairs, smiling brightly as he lifts Yevgeny and carries him through to the kitchen. Whatever is going on outside is going to happen with or without him and Yev is his priority for the moment.

“What is it? They sound really mad.”

“I’m not actually too sure, here, drink your smoothie.”

Ian sits Yev on the kitchen counter and hands him a plastic beaker of banana and blueberry, extra honey because Yev seems to have an almost inhuman tolerance for sweetness. There are muffled shouts coming from outside.

“I’ll be right back, buddy. Stay there.”

Ian kisses Yev’s forehead and hands him his phone, already unlocked with one of the many brightly coloured games Ian has downloaded for him, flashing on the screen.

He walks as calmly as he can across the room and gives Yev a cheery wave as he opens the front door and steps out. Ian closes the door lightly behind him, the smile on his lips turning to a round ‘O’ of shock as he sees Mickey straddling Lip on the ground, hands wrapped around his throat.

“JESUS!”

Ian is down the steps in an instant. He doesn’t allow himself time to think about it too much, just take aim and boots Mickey in the ass hard enough to knock him off Lip’s chest.

“The fuck, Ian?”

Mickey grabs his right cheek and hobbles upright, turning to glower at both Gallagher’s. He starts to move in again and Ian holds up a warning finger.

“No! Whatever is going on … Hey! I said no, Mickey.”

Mickey sucks his teeth but stops his advance, swaying on the spot and rolling his shoulders. Ian is reminded of the Raptor scene in Jurassic World, the hero holding the dinosaurs at bay with sheer force of will, unsure how long his command would hold before he’d get his face ripped off.

He almost laughs but then Lip is sitting up, coughing and trying to haul his stupid, stubborn ass off the ground.

“Just fucking stay down. Save yourself the embarrassment.”

Ian snaps irritably.

The words are carefully chosen and have the desired effect on both men.

Lip spits to the side and folds his arms lightly around his knees, logic prevailing over blood-lust.

Mickey preens, chest puffing out, smirking slightly at Ian’s obvious faith in his ability to kick Lip’s ass.

“Did you win, Papa?”

Yev calls from the porch. He is holding his little league baseball bat uncertainly in one hand and his smoothie in the other a small concerned frown creasing his brow. Mickey gives him a thumbs up and nods, grinning broadly

“Yeah buddy, sure did.”

Ian rolls his eyes skyward and makes an exasperated gesture

“Yev, will you go back inside please? And put the bat away.”

“But ...”

“IN!”

Ian yells and Yev disappears swiftly. Ian doens’t often yell but when he does, both Milkovich’s tend to comply, though the larger one is a little less predictable.

“Even my kid knows he could fuck you up, asshole. He’s seven.”

Mickey gives Lip a bored look and shakes his head elaborately at the shame of such a thing. Lip snorts and wipes a bloody string of snot from his nose

“You must be so proud.”

Ian is getting to the end of his patience with both of them and his nerves are shot.

“What the Hell is going on?”

“Your brother thinks I messed your face up, because apparently some shit-stain he knows saw us at the ice cream store and thought my way of making up for a beat down would be to get you a double scoop of fuckin’ pistachio.”

Lip shrugs and stands up slowly, eyeing Mickey as if expecting another rumble.

“Yeah pretty much. But apparently it wasn’t him.”

“Apparently.”

Mickey spits, voice dripping with sarcasm. Lip ignores him and turns to Ian, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“So what the fuck happened to you?”

Ian glances to Mickey who folds his arms and blinks slowly, raising one shoulder a fraction. It is Ian’s call and Mickey will back up whatever he chooses to say, truth or not.

Ian weighs his options. He is not about to go into everything with Lip in the middle of the yard, the curtains are already twitching after his scuffle with Mickey. More than that, Yev might not be in plain sight but he’s near by. Ian glances back to the house and sure enough a scuff of blue converse quickly tucks out of view behind the door.

“We’re dropping Yev off after breakfast, if you wanna come by, we can talk. All of us. Like adults.”

Ian divides his gaze equally between his brother and his lover as he says this and both shift their eyes away from his.

“Sure. Sure, I can do that.”

Lip nods and glances across at Mickey.

“Sorry I thought it was you.”

“Sorry I kicked your ass.”

Lip accepts the painfully insincere apology as his due and turns to his little brother, opening his arms and smiling as Ian steps easily into his embrace

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. See you later, alright?”

They slap backs and Lip staggers back toward his car, massaging his throat.

Mickey sniffs dismissively after him and turns to Ian, lips lightly compressed in a frown

“Your brother is a dick.”

“I know. But did you have to strangle him?”

“No, felt good though. Or at least it did until some other prick treated my ass like a damn football.”

Ian’s lip curls in a small smile and he snakes an arm around Mickey’s tense shoulders, drawing him in against his side.

“I know what that ass can handle.”

“Fuck off. Now is not the time for your randy macho bullshit.”

Mickey says irritably but his tone is light and Ian risks a kiss to his temple, which Mickey accepts with a small grunt.

“We need to have talk with Yev about that bat.”

Ian muses, stroking Mickey’s arm lightly, working his thumb into the knotted muscles around his collar bone in just the right way to make Mickey forget his annoyance.

“Mmm. Yeah, fine. I’ll do it.”

“Yeah?”

Ian raises his eyesbrows in mild surprise. Mickey is pretty good with on the spot discipline but planning out talks is not really his style.

“Yeah, he comes out the house with that little thing, only pussies like your brother are gonna think twice. He needs to get my steel one.”

“No.”

Ian says flatly, pressing his index finger against Mickey’s lips.

“Wrong direction, Mick.”

“What? You thinking a gun maybe?”

Mickey mumbles around Ian’s finger, eyes wide and innocent. For a moment Ian scowls at him and then he realises he is having his balls busted and he flicks Mickey’s chin gently.

“Dick.”

“Asshole.”

*

Yev is reluctant to go home. He clings to Mickey with unaccustomed neediness that Ian feels instantly a little jealous of and then immediately foolish for being jealous of such a thing. Mickey for his part seems completely unsure of what to do with the extra attention and frowns as Yev clambers onto his lap at the breakfast table.

“Come on, man. How am I gonna eat with you in the way?”

“I’ll move when your eggs are done.”

Yev states firmly and wraps his arms around Mickey’s chest, pressing his cheek against his father’s shirt. Mickey’s tongue appears briefly as he battles impatience but after a moment he settles his hand on Yev’s back and leans back in his chair so the kid isn’t crushed between him and the table edge.

“Can I stay over tonight?”

Yev doesn’t lift his face up and Mickey seeks out Ian’s eyes over the top of his head.

Ian nods and gives a small shrug.

“You’ll have to ask your Mom but yeah, if she’s okay with it.”

“Can you text her?”

“Nah, go call.”

“I’ll do it in a minute.”

Yev mumbles, tightening his grip on his Papa. Ian plates up Mickey’s eggs and carries them over, a small frown between his brows.

“You okay, Yev? Feeling sick or something?”

“No. Just happy here.”

Yev is normally a chatty kid but like Mickey, when he is feeling a strong emotion he tends to go quiet, using his words sparingly and Ian strokes his hair, a little worried. Mickey tries to manoeuvre his son out of the way so he can eat but Yev refuses to budge and short of actually putting him on the floor Mickey isn’t sure what to do, so he sits and watches the steam rise from his untouched plate.

“Is this a thing now? You just gonna hang out here on my lap forever?”

Yev shrugs and Mickey grimaces at Ian. He is pretty much out of his incredibly limited child psychology and normally if Yev feels clingy it is Ian he goes all weird limpet- child on. Ian takes a seat besides them both and rubs gentle circles on Yevgeny’s back, putting his face on Yev’s level.

“You wanna sit with me while Papa eats his breakfast?”

Blue eyes blink at Ian suspiciously and Ian gives his most encouraging smile and holds out his arms. Yev seems to decide that this is not a trick of some sort and reluctantly lets go of Mickey, shifting himself onto Ian and then latching on just as tightly.

“What’s up? You can tell me.”

Ian keeps up his smile and the little comforting circles and waits. Mickey stays silent, his own version of patient support.

“You both keep getting beat up.”

Yev says at last. He doesn’t let go but with the words out he loosens his grip a little and glances up at his Dad.

“Oh, yeah, no. It’s just been a bad couple of days.”

It sounds lame even to Ian and Mickey gives him a quick frown, letting him know that it most definitely sounded lame.

“We’ll be more careful, okay?”

“Even Uncle Lip wanted to beat Papa up. Why?”

Yev is warming to his theme and Mickey hastily scoops some of the semi-warm egg into his mouth, realising they could be here a while.

“Uncle Lip thought I beat Dad up. He was just protecting his brother.”

“But you wouldn’t beat Dad up!”

“No, I wouldn’t. Uncle Lip is an idiot and he got … confused.”

Mickey manages to make the word ‘confused’ sound as dirty as a profanity and Ian tilts his head, giving Mickey a vexed look.

“So who did? And why?”

“Some asshole who shouldv’e known better. And he did it because … because he was jealous of Dad, I think.”

Mickey looks directly at Yevgeny as he says this, not daring to look at Ian.

Ian swallows and holds Yev a little tighter. He and Mickey haven’t spoken about Terry’s motives beyond blind hate. Ian hasn’t had the head space to think about them himself and he wonders when exactly Mickey has been mulling this over. If it is new, or an old train of thought dragged into focus because of the events of the last week.

“Why?”

“Because,”

Mickey pauses to fork more egg into his mouth, chew and swallow and then pushes the barely touched plate away. Yev reaches out to go back onto Mickey’s lap but Mickey ignores his outstretched arms discreetly.

“Because Dad is everything that person didn’t like. Dad is good and decent, honest … pretty.”

Mickey flicks his eyes up and gives Ian a small flash of smile at the last word.

“People don’t like what they don’t understand, this guy never understood your Dad.”

“Oh. Well … does he understand him now?”

Yev has no idea how loaded that question is. Even Ian can’t fully understand.

*Dad, please don’t …  *

The gun barrel dipping the tiniest bit and Terry half glancing toward Mickey, not stopping but paused for a mere second. It was a second more consideration than he had ever given his youngest son before and Mickey wishes he could forget it.

He winces slightly, a nerve by his right eye jumping, but nods bravely and gives a short, heavy exhalation.

“Yeah, Bud. He understood in the end. At least a little bit.”

Ian has no clue what the fuck that is referring to and he tries to read Mickey’s expression for answers but that old mask of indifference is firmly in place and Ian can’t see around the edges.

“Does Uncle Lip understand too?”

The question breaks the storm of Mickey’s memory and he blinks a couple of times before grinning, his expression softening.

“Uncle Lip never understands shit. But he’s family so we put up with him.”

Ian bounces Yev on his lap lightly and smooths his hair back from his face

“So you don’t need to worry about anything, okay?”

“Can I stay anyway?”

“This is your home, you’re always welcome, silly!”

Ian smiles and Yev’s lip quirks upwards slightly.

“I’ll call Mom.”

He slides off Ian’s lap and takes the cellphone Ian offers him, wandering into the other room as he has seen people do to make important calls.

Both his father’s know that this isn’t a simple fix. Yev isn’t a baby and he isn’t stupid. Like most kids in South Side he has seen and heard far more than his parents would like but he is only just starting to reach the age where he really observes it. Ian thinks of the baseball bat on the porch and his heart sinks a little. He and Mickey talk about college. Svetlana speaks of the jobs Yevgeny will have the opportunity to apply for. Mickey gives Yev a small allowance to put him off stealing candy. They do little things but they are going to need to do more.

He thinks of Lip barging in and is suddenly pissed of in a major way. Neither of them are bad father’s, Svetlana isn’t a bad mother. Why the fuck can’t they manage to shield him from this crap?

“South Side, man.”

Mickey is watching the play of emotions on Ian’s face and he shrugs, a rueful little gesture full of quiet understanding.

“Sometimes I hate it.”

Ian says quietly and Mickey nods in understanding.

“He’ll be fine. We’re doing okay, you know? He’s great.”

“He is. He deserves so much, Mick.”

“And we give what we fuckin’ can. Don’t get all mopey and shit on me.”

Mickey takes his half eaten breakfast over to the sink, pausing to kiss Ian’s head and squeeze his shoulder lightly.

“Text Philip and tell him to meet us at the park. Yev needs to let off some steam.”

Ian nods and sighs grateful for the plan. He waits for Yev to bring his phone back and texts his brother.  

*

#shameless #shameless us #shameless fanfiction #shameless imagine #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #Ian loves Mickey #mickey milkovich #Mickey x Ian #yevgeny milkovich #Milkovich #Gallagher #Gallavich #Gallavich Love #130lb of ukrainian courage