#'yes his own mother just told me that he's a murderer whose gonna make me miserable but i love him so...'

[thesmokinpossum]

when i tell you my jaw hit the fucking floor at this scene...

#kay baby girl you should have run so fast and so far #unfortunately she was litterally 21 years old so of course she would have been like #'yes his own mother just told me that he's a murderer whose gonna make me miserable but i love him so...' #and that's not me saying she's not intelligent: that's me saying that she's a 21 years old girl in love and i'm very sad for her #kay adams #who deserved so much better than what she got smdh #btw sorry for the shit quality the light is awful in this backstore and i'm so stunned that i had to share this with tumblr right away #on a more positive note mama corleone constantly screaming at tom in italian is probably the most validating thing ever for him lmao

[bimb0beee]

stay with me.

suna x y/n

in which youve liked suna for years, suna is a tsundere, and tsukishima is a little shit.

includes tsukiyama, best friends tsuki & yamaguchi, mentioned miya twins, tsukishima is a shit stirrer and we love him for it.

warnings: smut, public funking, big cock suna, stupid suna, a little spit, uhhhhh, also my fics are never beated all mistakes are my own 🥴

wc: 4.1k

The first time you saw Suna Rintaro was at nationals. He was easily one of the prettiest boys you have ever seen. All you wanted to do was introduce yourself to him, but seeing as how they lost to Karasuno… you didn't think he'd give the time of day to a student there.

You debated following him on his socials… but ultimately went against it.

There was no way he'd be interested in you anyway.

The second time you saw Suna Rintaro, you were eating lunch with Kei and Tadashi.

You were midchew listening intently to Tadashi's story when you looked up and saw him.

He was walking with his friends, the twins, and you started choking.

Kei glanced at you while Tadashi fussed to make sure you weren’t dying.

He also happened to glance in the direction you were looking and saw the reason for your sudden choking.

“Y/n, oh my god, are you okay??”

“Tadashi, she's fine. She just so happened to see her four year crush.”

You punched him in his stupid gut.

The third time you saw Suna he was in one of your classes. Along with one of the twins. The one with yellow hair… What was his name again?

You were seated near the back, always keen on avoiding human interaction if you could.

And, of course, they both decided to sit directly in front of you.

Not that they paid you any attention.

Which was fine.

Until your professor told the class they should get someone elses contact information.

Since you were alone, and no one was near you except for Suna and Miya, you had no choice but to give it to Miya when he asked.

“Yo, I’m Atsumu! This is Suna.”

You looked up at, ah his name is Atsumu, Atsumu and smiled shyly.

“Hey! I’m Y/n…”

You took a chance at Suna but he's looking at his phone, not even bothering to give you another glance.

Unknown to you, he was already looking at you, but decided to look away before he got caught by either you or Atsumu.

You offered up your email and number to Atsumu, looking over to see if Suna wanted to as well.

He didn't even look at you, which may or may not have bummed you a bit, but you decided it was better this way.

You and Atsumu exchanged at least which was better than nothing, you suppose.

From then on, you and Atsumu became fast friends. You would try to talk to Suna, but he would just grunt at you or not even bother answering. So you gave up on trying. Which kind of fucking sucked, but if he wanted to be a prick, then you wouldnt bother with that.

Has your crush dwindled? No, of course not.

Atsumu was always talking about Suna and the stuff they were up to and he seemed so wonderful, so it sucked that he wouldnt even look at you.

You're crying about Suna to Kei and Tadashi; you're so distracted you don't even notice them walking in.

But Kei does, and right before you say his name he decides to be nice and cut you off.

“Shut up. Look who’s here.”

You look to glare at Kei and then you look up and, oh my god, of course it's him.

Suna and the Miya twins.

Atsumu notices you and starts walking over to you excitedly like a little puppy.

As annoying as he is, it's so endearing, you can't help but love him.

“Hey, Y/n!”

“Oh, hey Atsumu. Whats up?” You crinkle your eyes at him and in the most subtle way a tick appears in Suna’s eyebrow.

No one notices, except Kei.

He mentally grins.

“Oh, this is my brother! Osamu! We’re twins!”

You laugh and Kei puts his arm around you.

“Wow, really? I would've never guessed.”

You slap your hand on Kei’s leg and tell him to be nice.

He turns to whisper in your ear, “Leave your hand there. I'm testing a theory.”

You look at him with a question in your eyes but decide to listen anyway. Let him have his fun.

“I didn't know you had a boyfriend,” someone who definitely isn't Atsumu says.

You look up, why is Suna talking to you?

“Hmm?” You're staring at him curiously and then he just stalks off.

Atsumu starts to cackle. “What the fuck. He doesn't talk to you at all and then says that shit?”

“Y-yeah. What the hell was that about?”

Osamu is looking at you with sparkles in his eyes and you're about to ask what that means when he's suddenly walking away, “Sorry, gotta go and make sure he doesn't accidentally hurt himself! It was nice meeting you, Y/n.”

“You too…?”

Atsumu catches up to them to see what the fuck that was about.

They're sitting on a bench outside and Atsumu walks up to them trying not to laugh.

“What the fuck was that, Suna? I thought you didn't like her!”

“I don't.” He rolls his eyes, but there's a faint blush to his cheeks.

“Oh my god. You fucking like her.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tsumu.”

“LMFAO.”

“Atsumu, why the fuck did you just say that out loud?”

“Suna, you’re such a fucking tsundere. Why don't you just talk to her, idiot?”

“Why would I do that, when she clearly has a boyfriend?”

“Well, Rin, you didn't even let her answer before you stormed off. Maybe if you actually talked to her, you might find out the truth.”

Suna blinks at Osamu and gives a gentle smile.

“This is why you're my favorite twin.”

“Fuck you, Suna. You can't even talk to the person you like.”

“What the fuck was that. Kei? What the fuck was that?”

You're kind of having a little breakdown. Why did Suna randomly ask that, out of absolutely nowhere. He doesn't give you the time of day, then all of a sudden asks if you have a boyfriend? In what universe is Suna Rintaro living?

Kei is smirking.

“Babe, I think Suna likes you.” Surprisingly, it's Tadashi who speaks.

“Suna doesn't like me, Tadashi. He's clearly an idiot who knows nothing.”

“No, yeah. He totally likes you. He looked like he wanted to kill me.”

“Kei! You can't go antagonizing people!”

“Yes. i can. Especially assholes who think they can say shit when they don't even bother to talk to you.”

You smile wide. Fuck. “Oh my god, Tadashi! Kei loves meeee!”

He blushes and pushes you. “Fuck off, no one even likes you.”

You wrap him in a hug and he's groaning the whole time, but Tsukishima Kei loves you. 

Thankfully, it's friday. Which means you're not going to think about school for the next two days.

Unfortunately, Tadashi is dragging you to a party. Originally, he was only taking you because Kei refused to go. But now there's a change in plans.

You're whining into the phone, “Tadashiiii, if Kei is going then why do I have to??”

A voice, who is most certainly not your sweet freckled baby, answers instead, “Because your stupid boyfriend,” “I dont have a boyfriend, Kei” “is going to be there, and my job is to piss him off.”

“Why do you live off of chaos? What do you get out of it?”

“Pissing people off is one of my favorite pastimes, midget. Get ready.”

And the mother fucker hangs up on you.

One of these days, you swear you're going to kick him right where it hurts the most. 

You walk into the party, Tadashi holding your hand and Kei's hand on your back. It's nice. It's comfortable. You feel like everyone thinks you’re fucking them both. You're not. They’re fucking each other, but that’s a whole other thing you’re not going to get into.

Tadashi goes to get some drinks and Kei takes you to a wall and cages you in.

You blink up at him so prettily, he thinks, if he wasn't in love with his boyfriend, you would've been his next one.

“Kei?” You say so softly and he smirks like the demon he is.

“Saw dumb, dumb and dumbest playing beerpong. I think one of them saw you, so I’m just doing my friendly duty and pissing him off.”

You roll your eyes good naturedly at him and see Tadashi making his way over to you guys.

“Yummy! Give me, give meee!”

Tadashi smiles at you so sweetly and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I love you, sweetheart!”

“Babe, I'm gonna blush, you womanizer!”

He blushes at that. Tadashi is much too sweet for your teasing but you love seeing how red he can be.

“Shut up, you little brat!”

Suna noticed. He always notices you. He saw the moment you walked in. He narrowed his eyes the moment Kei caged you next to the wall. He also saw when Tadashi kissed you.

The math aint mathin, he thinks to himself.

Atsumu notices his glaring and wants to see what has Suna so angry. At a party.

Then he sees you and who you're with and he laughs in Suna’s face.

“What are you angry about? You never talk to her, idiot. Why don't you change that? Actually, lets go.”

He grabs Suna by his wrist, dragging him across the room to where you three are.

“Y/n! Hey! I didn't know you came to parties!”

You blink your pretty eyes towards them and you smile wide.

“Tsumu! I don't usually, but they wanted me to come and I love them so… Here I am!”

“What, you're not gonna say hi to me, too?”

Now. normally, you would blush and brush it off. But unfortunately, you got some liquid courage in your system because of Tadashi.

“Oh? What's this? Suna is actually making an effort in talking to me?”

You smile so cutely at him and his eyes widen. Is that a blush?

Before he can respond, Atsumu is laughing his ass off.

“She’s got a fuckin point there, Suna!”

“Shut the fuck up, Tsumu. Whose side are you on anyway?”

“Obviously, Y/n’s side.”

You start laughing loudly at their interaction. Kei has a tight grip on your waist and Suna is glaring at the offensive hand.

“You got a staring problem, Suna?”

You glance up at Kei and see a mischievous fire in Kei’s eyes.

“Can you be nice for two seconds, Kei?”

“He's glaring at my hand. Am I supposed to say nothing?”

“Maybe you're just imagining it, hmm?” You say sweetly to him.

He’s about to tell you how stupid you are when someone speaks up, “Hey, Y/n. You wanna go outside? Me and Tsumu are gonna go get some fresh air.”

Kei raises a brow at that, “What, just Y/n? Not us?”

“Nope.” He says, popping the p extra loud.

“Yeah, sure. It's stuffy in here. I'll be back okay? Try not to murder anyone. Love you, bye!”

You make your way outside and find a nice little secluded spot.

It feels so much better than being inside a cramped party where everyone is breathing the same air.

“Wow, it feels so nice out here, huh?”

You have such a pretty little smile all Suna wants to do is kiss you until you're giggling just for him.

“You're really touchy with your friends, aren't you Y/n?”

To your utter surprise, it's not Atsumu who is talking to you.

Atsumu is trying to hold back his cackle; sometimes Suna is too blunt for his own good.

“Hmm, I guess so. I've also known them forever, so it's natural for me to be like that with them. Why, you jealous, Suna?”

You're sitting down squished between Suna and Atsumu and it's giving you butterflies.

Suddenly, Atsumu’s phone is ringing.

“Fuck, its Samu.”

“Yeah? What's up? What? Why did you leave, you stupid… Alright. Stop. Osamu, stop, I'll be right there. Jesus.”

“Sorry, guys. Osamu is drunk and is attempting to walk home alone for whatever reason. I'm gonna go get him. See you guys later?”

“Hopefully! Let me know when he's safe, okay, Tsumu?”

“Yeah, of course, sweetheart!”

You blush, Atsumu has never called you sweetheart before.

Suna knew he was a fucking liar and only doing it to get a reaction out of him. Fucker.

He clears his throat, “We’re friends, aren't we, Y/n?”

You hum, thinking over what he's asking. “Are we, Suna? How can we be friends when you never speak to me?”

You smile oh so sweetly at him and he wants to bite it off of your face.

“We’re talking now, aren't we?”

“I suppose we are, Suna…”

“Call me Rintaro.”

You stammer at his bluntness, “O-okay… Rintaro…” It feels like candy on your tongue.

You’re so fucking cute, he thinks.

“Are you shy? Like a cute little… bunny.”

You stare up at him, eyes wide, face red.

“B-bunny?! Do you go around calling all unsuspecting girls, bunny, Mister Rintaro?”

“Nah. Just the cute ones named Y/n.”

“You're very bold for someone who I just became friends with, aren't you, Rin?”

He puts an arm around you and pulls you closer.

“But, you're so cute, bunny. I can tell you like the nickname. Should I keep calling you bunny? Hmm?”

You're trying to fight the heat on your face, but he's so cute. His words make your insides jelly and you want to kiss him.

“Should I keep going, bunny? Or go back to Y/n?”

You whine at him, “Noooo, Rin…”

Suna can’t help but think how cute you are. He can't help but want to pull more reactions out of you. He manhandles you onto his lap and you're squirming around a little too much.

“Watch it, bunny. If you don't stop you're gonna make this hard for the both of us.”

You stop squirming and cover your face with your hands trying to fight off your blush and embarrassment.

“Rintaro! You can't just say shit like that!”

“Oh? So you want me to get hard? Bunny, you're nasty, aren't you?”

He wraps his hands around your back and snuggles you right next to him so he can whisper naughty things into your ear.

“Bunny, if you wanted me that's all you had to say. I'm all yours, yeah?”

He brings his mouth to plant sweet kisses onto your neck and you're so embarrassed and in shock this is happening to you, you don't react immediately.

Then you feel his teeth sinking into your skin and you let out a breathy moan.

“Oh? What's this? You like being bitten, little bunny?”

“S-shut up, Rin…”

He huffed a laugh against your skin and continues to kiss and nibble at you. He's determined to mark you up so everyone can see just who you belong to.

He moves his hands so they are under your clothes touching your soft skin and it feels so good to have him touching you like this.

“Rin, more, please…”

And who is he to say no to a pretty little bunny?

He gives you the sweetest kiss which is all the warning you get before he's thrusting his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into the kiss and he soaks it up. Your tongues are battling and you've never experienced such euphoria in your life. If you could die right now you would be happy.

He removes himself from your mouth and you whine out a protest.

“Hush, bunny. Open up, yeah?”

You look at him questioningly but do as he says anyway. You open your mouth wide and loll your tongue out just a little bit and he groans at his obedient little bunny.

He stares you dead in the eyes and slowly drops some of his spit into your mouth.

“Don’t swallow until I tell you to, bunny.”

He watches the way his spit runs down into your throat and his dick swells tremendously.

“Okay, sweet baby. Swallow for me, yeah?”

You start to grind down onto his clothed cock and, fuck, it feels so good.

He grabs your hips and helps you rub your tiny little cunt all over him.

“Feel good, bunny? Hmm?”

“Y-yes Rin, feels so good… More…”

“More? Here, bunny? Are you sure?” He laughs into your skin.

You're so delirious with lust it doesn't really occur to you where you are, just that you need to feel him inside you.

“Are you sure bunny? I don't know if your little cunt can take me like this…”

You pout at him, “I can do it, daddy…”

He stiffens at the name. That's new.

“Daddy, please…”

Suna is pretty sure you have no idea what you're saying to him but how can he deny you when you're begging him so sweetly?

“Alright, pretty bunny, let daddy take care of you, yeah?”

Your eyes sparkle in utter happiness and he's struck back for a second. You're going to be the death of him, he thinks.

He goes to move your panties to the side and scoffs. As if he could even call these panties. It's basically a piece of string covering your little cunt.

So, he rips them in two.

“Rintaro! You can’t just rip my fucking underwear!”

You’re pouting at him and, fuck, he wants to shove his cock down your sweet little mouth. Another time, perhaps.

“Hush, baby. I'll buy you more. Not that it was covering much anyway.”

You're about to give him an earful before he's shoving a finger into your sopping cunt.

“Wow, bunny. You're soaked. Is this all for little ol me?”

He's leisurely pumping a long, thick finger in and out of your cunt and it has your thighs quivering.

“Yes, Rin, all for you, always for you,” you cry into his neck.

And all too soon he's taking his finger out and you look into his eyes and watch as he sucks your arousal off of his finger.

“Alright, bunny. Take my cock out.”

You're reaching down to his jeans and just seeing his bulge makes your cunt throb. Fuck, you cannot wait to have it inside you.

You slowly take his cock out and of course it's big and pretty just like him. Can't really say you're surprised about it.

He watches you as your eyes widen in excitement and softly stroke his pretty cock.

“You like what you see, bunny?”

You don't even spare him a glance while you lick your lips and nod softly. You very much do like what you see.

“Alright, sweetheart. It's gonna be a tight fit. Are you sure you want this here?”

“Yes, yes. Rin, please, daddy, please if you don't shove your dick inside me soon I will explode!”

He laughs at your word vomit. You're just so unbearably cute and there is no way in hell he can ever deny you.

“Alright, sweet bunny. Get ready, okay?”

Even when hes about to fuck your brains out, you cant believe how sweet he actually is.

He spits on his dick and lifts you up ever so slightly so he can slip the head inside your quivering hole.

Not that he needed the extra lubrication, he just wanted to make sure it was extra sloppy.

The fat head of his cock makes its way past your folds and you close your eyes with a silent, open mouthed moan.

“Shh,” he coos at you, “look at my sweet little baby, taking my cock raw. Does it hurt, bunny?”

He thinks he hears you growl more at him and he chuckles into the night.

And then he’s sinking you lower and lower and lower, until he's inside you.

All of him is inside you and, fuck, he wants to live in your cunt.

“You take me so well, sweetheart. Were you made for me? Is this cunt made only for me?”

You're babbling a symphony of yes, more, all for you daddy and it's doing everything in his power to not pound you like an animal.

“Rin,” you whine into his ear, “if you dont start moving now im going to walk away and never look back you stupid-”

He grabs your hips and lifts you till he's barely inside you and slams you down onto him.

You're squeezing him so tight, your cunt fluttering around his cock and he's trying not to finish right then and there.

“You're on top bunny, come on, show me, help me out, yeah?”

You can't hear anything; you just have this raw, vicious need for his cock to split you in half.

You start moving up and down as hard as you can and it's the most beautiful feeling you've felt in months.

He's helping you so he reaches a little deeper, you are involuntarily squeezing his shaft, so lost in pleasure.

No one has ever fucked you like Suna Rintaro is currently fucking you.

You're pretty sure no one else will ever measure up to him.

He's sucking hickies all over your unblemished neck, a feral growl in him knowing he's the one who's gonna have his marks all over your precious body.

“S’at feel good, baby? You like when I bite your neck and slam you on my thick cock, bunny?”

“Yes, daddy, yes I love it so much, please more!”

And then he really puts you to work.

He's slamming you down onto him as hard as he can. Your heady arousal is absolutely soaking him. It's so filthy and nasty and perfect and you wouldn't have it any other way.

“God, fuck. You're perfect, bunny. Touch your sweet little clit for me?”

You're so lost in pleasure you don't hear him through the haze of your arousal.

He growls into your ear, “Touch your fucking clit and make yourself cum on my cock or you’re never getting this dick again, bunny.”

You whimper out into the night sky and sluggishly move your hand to your poor, throbbing clit.

You press your finger gently onto it before matching suna’s rough pace.

“God, how can you get any fucking tighter. Its like fucking a virgin, at this point.”

Which makes you rub your clit faster, “Daddy, daddy, please m so close, wanna cum all over your pretty cock!”

He wraps a pretty hand around your throat and demands, “Cum, bunny.”

You cum so hard you see white.

You're moaning and he shoves his tongue into your mouth.

Your cunt is fluttering around his so fucking deliciously he cant help but slam you down one last time and fill your guts with his semen.

You're still shaking in his arms from your orgasm and he just holds you and kisses you through it until you finally relax.

You blink up at him, trying to get some clarity in your eyes.

“Either you're an angel, or you're sent straight from hell. How can the best fuck of my life be at some shitty college party?” You ask him. And then it hits you.

“OH MY GOD, Suna! Why did you let us fuck at some shitty college party?!”

He laughs loudly at you.

“Bunny, you asked. I delivered. Shouldn't you be thanking me?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you so much, Suna-sama, for defiling me at a nasty frat party!”

“Baby,” he smiles mischievously, “anything for you.”

You're laughing into his skin when all of a sudden someone is throwing a towel? at your head.

“Hey, what the fuck-”

You turn to look at the offending fucker and you just see a blushy Tadashi and smirking Kei.

“Kei! Tadashi!” And then you remember Suna’s softening cock is still inside you.

“I cannot believe you nasty fucks couldn't wait until you were at someone’s house. Outside of a party. You're kidding.”

“Shut the fuck up, Kei. Mind your business!”

Suna pulls you protectively to his chest.

Kei laughs at him and rolls his eyes, “Relax lover boy, Tadashi is all the ass I need.”

Tadashi turns into an even blushier mess and hisses at him, “Kei! You don't have to be so lewd!”

They're turning to leave when Kei graces you with a parting gift.

“Good job, Y/n. It only took you 4 years to talk to your crush.”

Fuck. You're going to murder him in his sleep. You know where he lives. You have his key.

“What does that mean, bunny?”

You groan into his chest; you were hoping to avoid this topic forever if you could.

“Ughhhhh, I saw you when you played against Karasuno at nationals and I've just kind of had a crush on you since then,” you say really fast hoping he'll drop it.

Unfortunately, he does not drop it. 

“Well, I guess I have a lot of time to make up for then, don't I, sweet bunny?”

Your heart flutters and you place a heart stopping kiss to his soft lips.

“Can we go now?”

You laugh and yeah. You guess you’re kind of glad you came to this stupid frat party and had a class with Suna Rintaro.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #suna rinatro #suna x reader #suna smut #suna x y/n #suna x you #rintaro smut

[witching-hour]

Mother [Jax Teller x Reader]

REQUESTED BY @talicat713 Hi love can I request a story with Jax Teller? Maybe the reader is hired to take care of Abel after he is born and Jax is slowly falling in love with her. Maybe she gets really upset when he get kidnapped and starts blaming herself.

(A/N): thanks for the request! sorry it took so long. hope you enjoy <3

SUMMARY: when the reader gets caught in the crossfire with baby abel and half-sac, and gets kidnapped, the reader only blames herself, but jax assures her otherwise

TW: usual sons of anarchy violence, blood, death, guns, kidnapping

“P-P-Please...”

“A son for a son....it’s perfect.”

“Please, he’s just a baby.”

“Take me instead.”

“ABEL!”

You jumped awake as the memory as clear as day plagued your dreams once again. It’s been a week since the blonde haired, blue eyed baby boy you’ve grown to love and cherish as your own was taken from his own home under your care. The club was on lock down when shit hit the fan, first it was Gemma’s desire to seek retribution for her attack, leaving you to drive home with Abel in the backseat. Then it was the tragic death of the prospect who swore and died to protect you and the baby boy. And finally it was your failed attempt to save him before getting knocked out, only to wake up to Jax hovering over you in panic, with Chibs and Opie standing behind him.

“(Y/N/N)!” Jax yelled, shooting into the house with two of his brothers coming up from behind him. “(Y/N)!”

He ran into the kitchen, his white Nike’s getting stained in the puddle of blood he stepped into. He looked down at his foot, alarms blaring in his head. He followed the puddle to its source, “Oh shit...”

“Brother?” Opie eyed Jax’s back, coming closer and seeing the body of their prospect, Half-Sac, on the floor by the table. “....Goddammit.”

Jax saw a pair of bloody footprints lead from the puddle to the back patio door, which was broken, with glass shards everywhere. “(Y/N)!”

The three men wearing cuts stepped through the pane-less door seeing your body on the concrete littered in scrapes and scratches from the glass, and a fresh wound at the temple from being hit in the head with the butt of the Irishman’s gun. The VP rushed to your aid, flipping your body onto your back, and inspecting your face for any other injury as he shook you from your unconscious state.

You moaned in discomfort as you felt yourself drifting back to consciousness. Your head was pounding, making you wanna go back to sleep and ignore the pain. Opening your eyes wasn’t an easy task. It felt like you had to pry your eyelids apart as a heavy weight fell on them.

You felt a hand slide under your back, helping you sit up. You groaned out as the blaring alarms in your head only grew louder. You managed to get your eyes open, only to slam them back shut at the blinding light of the sun. “Shit.”

“Ye alright there, Lass?”

Your eyes open once more, this time staying open as you took in your surroundings. You saw the Scotsman and your favorite beanie wearing patch standing by the broken patio door.

You were outside.

Your hand moved against the concrete, letting out a hiss when you scraped it up some more on the broken glass under you. Jax, who you saw was knelled down next to you, laid his hands on your waist and guided you to stand back up. Looking around so vigorously, trying to piece together why the hell you were even in the backyard of Jax’s house, bruised and bloody, when you were supposed to be on lock down at the clubhouse. Jax tried to coax you to say something but your mind was racing a mile a minute.

Bits and pieces were coming to you at a time; Gemma kissing your cheek, walking in Jax’s kitchen with Abel in his carrier, Half-Sac on the floor gripping his stomach, your screaming and pleas, talking down the Irishman with a gun, you being thrown through plate glass during your tussle with the Irishman, and Abel wailing.

“Abel.” Your eyes wide, head spinning around to meet the other three pairs staring at you, “He took Abel!”

“Who? Who took Abel?!” Jax demanded.

“The Irishman. The one Tara patched up.” Your words were so swift you didn’t even know if you said them correctly.

You told the Sons you would call an ambulance and not worry, and to just find the precious boy you failed to defend. They shot out of the house in search of the baby, but came back emptied handed. The Irishman got on a boat at the docks and stolen Abel before any of SAMCRO could get their hands on him. And it was all your fault.

You could’ve done more. Maybe tried a different approach that would’ve taken down the guard of the unhinged and grieving man who kept going on about loosing his son. Maybe if you’d hit sooner or waited a bit longer before grabbing the gun. Maybe you missed a window of opportunity to grab Abel and make a run for it. The scenarios played through your head relentlessly. Every move you made was different, but only one thing remained the same: it was your fault.

You missed the sweet boy you cared for everyday. But you didn’t deserve to miss him. You were the one who lost him in the first place.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

While you battled the demons screaming in your head, Jax was battling his own on the floor of his son’s nursery drowning in booze, cigarettes, and weed. And it was your fault.

You had grown up with the club, with your dad as a mechanic at TM, and your brother as a member of SAMCRO, you’d grown accustomed to the lifestyle. But you weren’t an Old Lady or member since it was “boy’s club.” You didn’t have any responsibilities besides paying rent and bar tending in the Clubhouse or helping Gemma in the office. So when Wendy was shipped off to rehab, and Tara skipped town back to Chicago, Abel was left with no mother figure or caretaker for when his father had “work.”

You barely did much in the office at TM since Gemma had a system and didn’t want you messing with it, as much as she appreciated the help. The bar tending was mostly nights, only ever making tips here and there when the guys thanked you for serving them after church, or when they threw a party. Not that you desperately needed the money, but you needed a hobby—something to keep you busy during the day and nights where you weren’t working at the parties. So you offered Jax a position he desperately needed: a nanny.

Jax and Ope were closer to your age and were patched brothers with your blood related one, so, naturally, you all grew up together wreaking havoc all over Charming. Jax and Ope both trusted you, especially when it came down to their kids, and you babysat for Donna and Ope when they needed a night to themselves. Jax didn’t wanna way the burden down on you, but agreed after your convincing argument.

You took on the role as Abel’s guardian when Jax wasn’t around, Gemma even dared to call you his mother once. It shocked you when she did, almost like she hand-picked you to be the mother of her grandson, but you couldn’t be entirely surprised considering the woman played a part in raising you. Of course she approved. She didn’t mention it again, but you knew every time he was in your arms that’s what she thought.

Your job was to care for him. Protect him. And you couldn’t even do that.

You knew Jax blamed you. You knew if Gemma knew she would definitely blamed you, and was most likely planning your murder to look like a suicide. The Club tried to check in on you, but you rarely opened the door. Why would they come to check in on someone that lost their VP’s only son?

Missed calls, voicemails, and unanswered messages had filled up your notifications on your phone. All from your brother and your family of SAMCRO. You couldn’t bare to talk to them. Hell, even look at them without the guilt crushing down on you. You would wake up in the morning and the guilt would appear out of thin air.

After your recollection of the day Abel got kidnapped, you knew you weren’t gonna be able to back to sleep. It was still morning, seven to be exact, and you managed to pull yourself out of bed. You’d gotten dressed after your shower, and made yourself some coffee to start the day.

You haven’t seen or heard from Jax since he showed up at the house with the club, but without Abel. He had passed Hale and his officers with the CSU for Eddie’s body, and locked himself in the nursery. Not once did he come out, leaving the club and yourself to vacate the area to let the father grieve.

It’s been a week, and you knew you needed to visit him. Whether he wanted to see you or not. You grabbed you keys off the counter which had a spare key to Jax’s house, slipped on your shoes by the front door, and rushed out to your car.

You pulled up to the house that only screamed the horrors that’d taken place. You saw the cavalry of bikes lines up in the driveway and on the grass and sidewalk. Sighing, you parked your car in front of the house, leaving room for the bikes when the guys pulled out.

You took hesitant steps up to the porch, reeling over how this confrontation could go with either anyone in the club or the father whose child you lost. Your hand raised up to knock, even though formalities weren’t necessary, but the door swung open before you could and Clay stood behind it.

“You know better then to knock, sweetheart,” He smiled, moving out of the doorway, and inviting you inside.

Swallowing thickly, you forced a smile back and stepped inside the threshold. You suppressed the urge to cry when your eyes landed on the kitchen. A big red stain remained from the attack--from when Eddie was killed. And when Abel was taken.

“Come on,” Clay guided you away and out of the hallway, keeping the kitchen out of your sight, “you don’t need to be looking at that.”

Your brother, Opie, and Chibs emerged from the hallway where the bedrooms and bathroom were. You heard the shower on and saw the wet spots on Opie’s leather jacket and kutte from when he set Jax in the shower to sober him up.

“How is he?” You manged to ask without getting choked up.

“As expected.” Opie answered.

“From what we can tell, he’s been like this since it happened. Cigarette butts and clips everywhere...empty bottles of Jack.” Your brother listed, sympathy for his brother coating his features, as did everyone else in the room. The guilt was noticeable on your face, which made your brother shake his head. “It’s not your fault, you know.” 

“Yeah...yeah, it is.” You didn’t give him or anyone else a chance to argue as you backtracked into the kitchen. You paused, staring down the blood stain, then catching sight of the broken patio door that now had a piece of plywood boarded up. Blinking away any thoughts, you moved to the sink and bent down to the cabinet, and grabbed a garbage bag.

You ignored the looks shared behind your back and the stares burning holes into your skull as you headed to the nursery to clean up the mess Jax made from his grief.

As you tied the garbage back closed, you heard someone walk into the room.

“You didn’t have to clean up.” Jax said leaning against the white dresser, watching as you avoided his gaze and fidget with your hands—a tick he picked up on when you were feeling nervous or guilty. He could sense both coming off of you.

“I wanted to.”

“Haven’t seen you.”

“Could say the same.”

You were being short with him. You knew that he noticed. He knew that you knew that he noticed. But you didn’t know how to react with him.

You’d lost his kid. Shouldn’t he be screaming at you right now? Kicking you out of his house?

“They have a lead on Abel,” he told you, making your eyes widen and actually look at him. “I don’t know what it is yet. They’re gonna show me at the Clubhouse. Just thought you deserved to know.”

You scoffed at that. “I didn’t. I don’t.”

“Babe-” He tried to coax you with a nickname only he called you, knowing that you probably blamed yourself for what down. But in his head it wasn’t your fault. It was his. He was Abel’s father, and should’ve known the club life was going to catch up to his family. He shouldn’t have been so naive to believe that he could have both.

After finding his father’s manuscript, he started to see the bigger picture when it came to the club. And his family when it intertwined. Even though the manuscript opened up his eyes, it pissed him off. How could his father write about something like that and then not do a thing to change it? Now he felt like that burden now rested on his shoulders. His father believed he could’ve been the one to save SAMCRO. And he didn’t.

“How can you call me that? How can you even look at me right now?!” Your vision clouded as anger coursed through you. Angry at the man who should’ve been livid with you for failing the one job he trusted you with. “Scream, yell, push me. Do something!”

“I’d never lay my hands on you, (Y/N).” He said in the most serious tone you’ve heard out of his mouth. “I’m not gonna scream at you, or yell.”

“Why not? Why aren’t you pissed? Why?”

“I could ask the same, babe.” He threw back at you, waving his hands at you. He was getting agitated with the fact you weren’t gonna drop it. 

He loved you, and it broke his heart to see you this way. You guys had crossed the boundary line of friendship when you took on the role as Abel’s guardian.(Or at least he did). And as much as no one but Gemma had stated out loud, you stepped in as Abel’s mother. That’s when he fell. Seeing how you acted with Abel, treating him as your own, and that the little boy had seemingly picked you as his mother with the way he acted over you. He my have been just a baby, but Jax had picked up on it. When he would get up in the morning for Abel, the child was of course gleeful to see his daddy, but he looked for you. Jax knew because it was the same look he had on his face when he wanted you, and then once you would step in the room Abel would be jumping for you. The kid once screamed bloody murder in the middle of the Clubhouse when you handed him off to Tig to use the bathroom, once you got back he was placed back in your arm and calmed down. He was definitely a mama’s boy--your boy. 

In a way you did see Abel as your own, but you and Jax weren’t together, and you were just the nanny. Yes, you were family, but regarding Abel you could have passed as his Aunt (Y/N/N). Certainly not his mom. You didn’t want to overstep.

“Why do you want me to yell? Hmm? Why do you want me scream?”

“Maybe, Jackson, because I’m here and he’s not.” You crooked your pointer finger at yourself, pronouncing each word carefully, trying to make him understand it was your fault. Why didn’t he blame you? He did, didn’t he? “I had one job. One fucking job.” For someone who didn’t curse often, it would have come off as a shock, but him seeing you in the distraught state you were in, he anticipated for the unexpected. “Take care of Abel; feed him, change him, protect him. And I couldn’t even do that.” You were shaking your head at yourself; disappointed, ashamed, and angry. “Maybe I want you to be pissed because I lost your goddamn son! You should be yelling! You should be screaming! You should be off your damn rockers right now!” You threw you hands up in exasperation. “Just at the sight of me! You trusted me with his life and I betrayed that trust!” Stepping closer to the blonde, you shoved him in his hard chest, “Come on!” You shoved him again when he made no effort to move. “Come on!” 

You continued to shove him again and again, yet he did nothing but take it. You were only wearing out your energy. Your hits became less forceful as the anger diminished and was gradually replaced with the sorrow you felt for the missing baby you were once responsible for. Thinking about where he could be, who he was with, if he was being fed or had been changed, made your heart grow stiff and heavy. What if he was cold? Or was he overheated? 

Once the tears started falling, they didn’t stop. The silent trail of tears turned into ragged breathing attached to the meltdown you were coming down from. Small sobs crawled up your throat, you attempting and failing at suppressing them. You couldn’t pinpoint when the biker pulled you into his strong arms, but he did. He cradled your head with his hand as you sobbed into his chest, letting his fingers fun through your hair soothingly. 

He managed to keep his own tears at bay, only letting one slip. Between the hole in his heart from Abel’s kidnapping and the tear you were creating from your breakdown, one bypassed the barrier and slowly ran down the tanned skin of his cheek.

When you heart rate fell back down and your breathing became even, you lifted your face from the wet spot you created on his navy blue SAMCRO shirt. “Mm sorry,” you mumbled tiredly. 

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He used the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe at your face of the tears that remained.

You fell into a silence as he cleaned your face, the deep concern and empathy written on his face. When he was done, you wiped at the drying stain of the one that fell down his own, and you asked softy, “You don’t blame me?”

“No, I don’t.” He answered. “You did everything you could and ended up getting hurt in the process.” He motioned to the stitches by your temple, they were healing rather quickly and you were able to get them taken out in a couple days. 

“I’m okay. Just a few stitches, Jax.” You brushed off.

“They’re still stitches.” He deadpanned.

“Whatever.” You said dryly, with a roll of your eyes before they met his once again. 

You watched as they flickered down to your lips before back up, as if asking for your permission. You copied his actions, tilting your head up, waiting for him to follow in suit. He slid a hand to the side of your neck, caressing your jaw, and leaning down to press his lips against yours.

His lips were slightly chapped from the dehydration, no doubt. They clashed with your soft ones and it was enough. He was enough. As cliche as is sounded, you could kiss this man forever. He really did live to the many rumors you heard around the Clubhouse from the crow-eaters and sweet-butts. But even they didn’t do him the justice he deserved.The kiss wasn’t aggressive like you imagined kissing him, but it was sweet--passionate, meaningful, and sadly, not as long as you would wanted. But it was enough.

He pulled away, leaving you both breathless and craving for more, but there were more important things at hand. This, whatever this was, would have to wait until Abel was safe and back home where he belonged. You guys would have to resume another time, but you could live with that as long as you got your boy back.

“You did your part. Now I need to do mine.”

You sat at the bar in the clubhouse with Piney, Tig, and Kozik as you patiently waited for the arrival of Jax and others. Jax has called you the night before (around five due to the time difference) that Abel was back where he belonged. The club, Gemma, and Abel were on their way back to Charming first flight this morning on the private jet that belonged to the Oswald's.

Your foot tapped against the bar connecting two legs of the bar stool, nerves obviously taking control, and driving he three men insane.

Tig put his hand on your knee, keeping it from bouncing. “Doll, you need cool it. Take some breaths or somethin’.”

“Sorry,” you apologized, string down into the beer you haven’t touched.

“Hey, it’s okay. He’s safe with his daddy. And they’re gonna walk through that door any minute now.” Piney assured you, messing with the tubing of his oxygen tank, before taking a shot of the whiskey he ordered from the crow-eater, Kelly, behind the bar.

“I know, I know....” you sighed, shifting in your seat. “It’s just...what if he doesn’t remember me?”

Piney reached over for your hand and held it in a firm grasp, but not hurting you. “(Y/N), you took on that boy as your own. A bond between a mother and her child is unbreakable. Biological or not. Family doesn’t end in blood, and it sure as hell don’t start there either. You hear me?”

Your eyes clouded and you patted his hand with your free one. “Yes, sir.”

You felt Kozik, who had gotten from his seat on the opposite side of Tig, rub your back comfortingly.

You all sat there in silence until the sound of bikes rolling into the lot caught the attention of everyone in the Clubhouse. As Tig and Kozik went out to welcome their brothers and Gemma back home, you and Piney stayed seated at the bar. Piney noticed your nerves as soon as the engines were heard. “He’s home. They both are.” 

Nodding slowly at his words, you took a deep breath and reached over for one of his shot glasses that were still full, throwing your head back and allowing the amber liquid to run down your throat into your stomach with a satisfying burn. Once you let it settle and manged to even out your nerves enough, you slammed the small glass back down and made you way out the Clubhouse door.

Gemma was the first one you saw, granted that she was probably on her way to get you. She brought you into a warm and comforting hug. “He’s here, baby, he’s here. He’s okay.” She ran her hand up and down your back as you coughed out a laugh, letting out a sting of genuine ones filled with joy and relief.

Across the lot, Jax was letting the guys who stayed behind to see the baby who had all their hearts on the chopping block. He heard a familiar laugh that always manged to make him smile. His head turned and saw you in Gemma’s arms, a couple tears running down your face as you laughed in relieved joy. Bouncing Abel in his arms, he started striding over to the two women he loved the most.

You looked up, catching the eyes that managed to pierce through you every time he was near. A grin spread across your face, one that you haven’t seen on yourself in a long time. Then your vision zoned in on the bundle in his arms, and the world stopped.

At the sight of the boy you nearly taken on as your own, your eyes filled with tears. A breathless laugh crawled up your throat as your hand came up to cover your mouth in amazement. “Oh, my God.” Gemma rubbed her hand up and down the side of your arm soothingly. He was actually here. Hearing about him was one thing. Seeing him in the flesh was another.

Abel had grown over the weeks of you not seeing him. He’d gotten some meat he needed on his bones, letting you know that he was fed. The lack of bruising and scars (from what you could see) showed that he had not been harmed. He was clean and wearing his baby blue reaper beanie from SAMCRO on his little head.

“Look, son,” Jax spoke in a small voice, “it’s mommy.”

Mommy?

The look on your face made the VP break out in a smile. Abel turned, and at the sight of you he squealed in happiness, little gurgles making their way out of his mouth. You sobbed as the little boy reached one of his hands out to you.

Your feet guided you to the two, using your thumb to rest in the palm of Abel’s hand, and him gripping it for dear life. You couldn’t contain the tears anymore. “Hey, baby. I missed you so much.” Jax adjusted the boy so he could put him in your arms. You sighed in content; finally feeling whole again with Abel in your arms. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jax brought you into his side, wrapping one arm around your waist, and using the other to cradle Abel’s head. Placing a kiss at your temple and one on his son’s forehead, he finally felt peace after all the shit that’s been hitting him. This is what peace felt like; having his family enveloped up in his arms.

He wasn’t planning on letting either of you go anytime soon.

SOA TAG LIST: @cutekittylexie @talicat713 @woahitslucyylu @xx--day-dreamer--xx @sweetpeaflower01 @rebelwrites

#jackson teller #jax teller #jax teller imagine #jax teller one shot #jax teller x reader #samcrow #soa #soa imagine #soa one shot #jackson teller x reader #sons of anarchy one shot #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy #samcro #soa x reader #jax teller x you

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Four - Peril

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, drug use, Tig being Tig. The usual SOA shit. Sorry Donna..

She always saw the beauty in darkness. The lugubrious belle that came alongside the moon and stars and whatever else lurked amidst the murk of nighttime.

Isla was cliche in that sense.

She was cliche in the sense that she adored watching the sun set, swallowed by the mountains and high-rise buildings as the evening fell and Charming was painted black.

And maybe it was mostly melancholic because of the horrors that swathed that small town, but it was still beautiful nonetheless.

She still liked to bask in the scenery, to discern the marvel of her home, from the highest point she could access. And, sometimes, she liked to take somebody along with her so she wasn't completely alone.

"Why'd you still come up here?" Ope asked, pulling himself onto the roof as she sat with her back to the wall--puffing on a cigarette.

"Because it's quiet." She was content, comfortable with her response. "And whenever I'm looking for Jax, or Gem, or my dad--or they're looking for me--this is where we're almost always found. Just people watching, or reminiscing, or having a few minutes to ourselves away from the chaos downstairs."

It wasn't an unknown safe space--Gemma had told her that JT and Clay would climb up there during the earliest days of the club--but it was special.

Jax, Opie, and Isla spent time up there as kids, too. Because they were bastards and were always running from their fathers--and den mother--and the roof of the clubhouse was their go-to.

She never really got out of that habit. She'd spend hours up there if she could, just watching as Charming bustled beneath her. And she liked that it was separate to the garage, but everyone knew where to find her if they needed her.

"It clears your head, being up here." She added. "I have got so much shit going on right now--between work, and my personal life--but coming up here is like a refreshment, I guess."

Opie understood what she meant because he was also seeking comfort in the night. Riding through dusk, spending time alone on his bike as he cruised the streets of his quaint town, relishing in the darkness because it was strangely comforting to him.

He liked to be alone. His thoughts were brutal and they seared his brain left and fucking right, but he liked his own company.

"Wish I thought about comin' up here when I was released from holding." The man chuckled, balancing a cigarette between his lips. "Stahl grilled the fuck outta me."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She really fuckin' did." He added, grunting as smoke blew from his nostrils. "Did she get you? I know she got Gemma."

"Nope, she didn't. I don't know why, though. She interrogated everyone else. Starting to feel a little left out."

Opie chuckled, smiling a bit. "Be glad. It's obvious that she's used to getting what she wants."

"And did you give it to her?"

"Fuck no." Isla smiled. Proud. "She can cross-examine me all she fuckin' wants—I'll never sell the club out."

"They know that, Ope."

"I know." Half confidently, he nodded. "Just—Stahl made me second guess it all, y'know?"

Nobody in Charming--aside from the PD--knew where that despicable bitch came from, and nobody cared to ask.

What they did know, though, was that she had her heart set on making that town a living fucking hell as she strived to eradicate the Sons of Anarchy by getting to its members.

She'd grilled everyone she could've. She cornered Gemma when she was out running errands, leaving the grocery store with a sour taste in her mouth when Teller told her where to fucking shove it.

Same went for Jax, and Clay, and Chibs, and Tig, and...Well, all of them told her to get fucked, actually.

None of them caved. None of them wanted to sell the club out because there was no reason to.

Well, there was a reason to, but no desire to.

There'd been murders. Three, to be specific. And one of them just happened to be a police officer--which was quite unlucky, but it wasn't awful.

They hated cops.

What they hated more, however, was the idea of getting caught by them. And Clay was. Somehow, anyway.

Piney's old "friend"--Nate Meineke--needed quality, albeit illegal, guns with no traceability to attack the convoy that was transporting one of his friends from point A to point B. And it went as swimmingly as possible...

Until June Stahl was put on the case and found that idiot's phone at the scene after dropping it mid-ambush.

Clay just happened to be the last person he had called. Which then caused the investigation to point toward Charming.

They all knew the Sons were guilty of supplying those weapons. Who else would it have been? They were known for running illegal firearms without batch numbers from a quaint Californian town whose name didn't quite fit its image.

It was blatant, though nobody gave it up.

But Stahl tried her damndest to get answers. And when she didn't, she targeted the member that she saw to be the most vulnerable--after a hit went wrong and he failed to cover his tracks--and Opie just happened to be that guy.

She questioned him for hours. She practically held the man captive in that little cell until he caved. But he didn't--and he wasn't going to, either.

He was loyal. That's one of the reasons why Jax wanted to patch him back in.

"Yeah, I know." Isla got to her feet when she heard Tig yelling for her downstairs. "But you're the strongest guy I know, Ope. I don't think Stahl, of all people, is gonna get to you."

He shrugged her off, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the gravelly ground of the roof.

Opie had changed. Not much, and it wasn't very apparent, but he'd changed. Chino had changed him, she thought.

He was still dedicated to his club, still in love with the reaper and the responsibility that came with the patch--but Opie Winston lacked that flicker of enthusiasm now.

"How does your dad feel about you being back at the table?"

"Said he's proud of me."

He was a man of very, very few words. But the tone that he took--the sheer relief twined into contentment--spoke a greater volume.

Piney would always support his son, feel a sense of gratification from his involvement in the club. And, of course, Ope felt grateful to be back--but it was different now.

He'd served time for his club. Donna consistently argued that they sold him out and that he was fucking stupid for running back into the arms of SAMCRO.

But it was his brotherhood. The Sons of Anarchy were his family--his lifeline. He was nothing if not blessed to be patched back in.

"And I guess that wife of yours isn't too happy about it?"

"How'd you reach that conclusion?"

"Well," she ignored that Tig was waiting for her, standing directly in front of him. "If she was genuinely thrilled about you being back here, she'd have been coming to Gemma's dinners, and spending more time at the clubhouse with us. But she isn't, and I'm starting to realize that she probably hates me now."

His head shook. "She doesn't hate you. It's just...It's just raw. Weird being back, I think."

"She didn't even have to leave. She knows that."

Donna did know that. But there was always something about Gemma. About the way she let things slide so often, how she felt that she had Clay so pussy whipped that he'd be at her every beck and call--but, really, that was redundant. Because Gemma let him get away with fucking murder.

Literally.

"Is she gonna be there tonight?

"Of course. She wouldn't miss Jax's son coming home." He got up, reaching for her hands. "Sorry that she's been so distant with you, Isla. But she's just been stressed out--money worries and the kids and stuff, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know."

Donna wasn't traditionally a worrier. But five years worth of finances, being a single mom, and fretting over her husband potentially not making it out of prison alive, just did that to a woman.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so." Grateful for her offering, though recognizing how damn stubborn his wife was, he conceded. "Thanks, though."

"Anytime. And if you change your mind, or need me, you know where I am--"

"Isla!"

"He is getting on my last fucking nerve today." She groaned, flipping Tig off as she looked over the ledge. "I'm coming! Give me a minute!"

"I've given you plenty of minutes! Just get your ass down here!"

"Just go," Ope chuckled, leaning down to peck her cheek. "We can have this talk another time."

Isla turned back to him, frowning. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Go 'n talk to him--I'll see you tonight."

He was such a nice guy. So considerate, kind.

She loved him a lot.

The flouncy sundress rose to the middle of her thighs as she sauntered through the clubhouse, hearing Trager talking--rather conspicuously, though slightly muffled--to somebody on his cell.

"C'mon, Tiggy. Why'd you yell at me?"

He waved his hand to shut her up, gesturing for the blonde to follow him out of the clubhouse and toward his bike.

"Yeah, cool. K, brother--see 'ya later. Bye." He hung up and slid the phone into the pocket of his cut, swiveling to face Isla with a smile. "You ready?"

"For what?"

"The party?" Tig told her, watching confusion sweep over her face. "I'm taking you over 'cuz you want a drink and don't wanna drive home after? And that you're probably gonna end up heading home with Juice, or something--"

"Juice?"

"It always happens," he shrugged, pointing at the helmet he set out for her at the back of his bike. "We all head out, you get too drunk, you take a liking to Juicy, and you try to ride his dick."

"What?" Isla got herself situated behind him as he got on first, her arms wound around his waist. "That was one time. I've only slept with him once, and I told you it'd never happen again."

"And why is that?"

Her cheeks flushed red, the engine revving sending vibrations through her entire frame.

"Because he was too gentle." Tig's foot collided with the kickstand.

"And the little Catholic girl likes it rough."

She felt the solid gold crucifix burning a hole into her chest.

"Yes. I like it rough." He groaned, leaning into her. She swatted at his chest over his shoulder, laughing heartily. "Just take me to see the baby, dickhead."

The bike sped out of the lot and Isla was loving the thrill of being on two wheels. She'd always liked being stuck to the back of somebody's Harley--but she'd never own one herself.

Isla was like Gemma. She felt stable enough riding with somebody, but riding alone--being in control of the motorcycle--was fucking terrifying.

Jax and Opie had encouraged her to take a ride at one point, but it didn't end very well, and Chibs spent the best part of two hours trying to stitch his daughter back up whilst Gemma castigated the two imbeciles who thought it was even reminiscent of a good idea.

Weaving through traffic gracefully, freely, was appealing to her, however. But she wouldn't be caught dead--alone--on a fucking bike.

Plus, she quite enjoyed being taken places. Escorted by a member of the club. It was safe.

The wind whirred and whipped around them, and she wished she didn't make the effort with her hair tonight. It was ruined, tousled to within an inch of its life, and she dreaded the thought of having to brush the knots out in Jax's bathroom.

Still, commuting via Harley was a hell of a lot quicker and had a few more benefits than commuting via car.

But the looks that they got were piercing. Horrible. Mainly from Hale stationed beside his squad car, watching as Isla and Tig raced down the freeway.

"He likes you." He spoke over the roaring engine when he hit the first stop light all night. "He hates that you've never given him a chance--"

"He's a cop, and I'm the outlaw's daughter. I've been raised to hate his kind."

Tig nodded his approval, setting off once again when the light switched to green and all opposing traffic stood still.

At one strange point in time, David Hale had his sights set on Isla Telford. He was in love with her. Completely besotted.

And she never gave him a second glance because, for one, she wasn't interested. He hated that she was so close to Jax and Opie, but not him, and he wished that she'd push herself away from the bad guys to grow closer to the heroic law-enforcer.

But he was a control freak above everything else, and Isla was just a free-spirit. She was loyal to her friends and family but she didn't want to get tied down, and she didn't want to become friendly with a fucking cop.

The only cop she liked was crooked. And Unser was in a similar spot to her--a little too affiliated with SAMCRO, but not completely doted on. Though, they were both strangely essential fixtures, and Clay would've been lost without them.

"Juice is here." Tig taunted as he helped her off the bike, holding her hand when she stumbled over herself a little. "Try to keep those panties on."

"Can't make any promises, Tiger." Her growl was seductive, though he knew that she was fucking with him.

She'd given up rebuking his claims, instead feeding into them because, with Trager, she couldn't seem to win. He was sleazy, and she loved that back and forth.

What she loved more, though, was that he was comfortable. He was a strange man, and nobody really understood just where he came from, but Isla liked that she could make jokes of any kind around him. He was easy to get along with. Easy to love.

And, man, did she love Alex Trager.

"If you do fuck him, though, would you make a video?"

Isla stepped into Jax's front room, turning on her heels. "Who said that we haven't already got one?"

She chuckled and wandered into the party, leaving Tig with a few convoluted thoughts and even more raunchy questions.

"Fuck. Gemma taught her well." He grumbled under his breath, reaching for the beer in Half-Sack's hand.

He slumped on the couch, motioning for his usual lay to sit in his lap as he watched Juice fawn over his little blonde friend making conversation with some other random woman already.

"Yeah, totally..." she agreed with whatever the girl was saying, but her eyes were glued on Tara. Just floating around the party.

She felt bad that the doctor was alone. Despite all that she thought of her, being out of ones depth in such an intimidating setting wasn't very nice. And Isla was an empath.

"D'ya think anyone 'round here has any nail glue?"

"Gemma might." She smiled, pointing toward the kitchen.

Grateful that she managed to shake that one off, Isla weaved through the small conclave and sat beside Tara, offering a friendly face during a time of such discomfiture.

Her heart was aching, the sheer nervousness was palpable, and she knew that Tara felt the same way too.

But Isla just sucked it up. Because she wanted to talk to her, and had to be the one to initiate it.

"Thanks for coming." Her smile was wide, genuine.

She offered a beer to the brunette, hoping that she'd take it.

"Thanks for asking me here." Tara accepted it, glad that Isla remembered she wasn't particularly a wine girl like herself.

Christ. This is awkward.

"Trust me, you were the first person I asked to come tonight."

"How so?"

"Well," a little bit more comfortably, she faced her completely, "you've literally nursed Abel back to health. You've been there every step of the way. You've been the best surgeon. And, as much as I hate to say it, you helped Wendy so much, Tara. I'm really thankful for all that you've done for this family."

"It's my job." She tried to brush the comments off, but her heart definitely fluttered at the praise.

Isla never changed. She was still the sweetest soul, she thought.

"I know, but you've had it rough with this lot--with Gemma, I mean."

"She isn't anything I can't handle." Confidently, she asserted.

"I know, and I'm glad that you're able to stand your ground." Reluctant, a hand landed against Tara's palm.

She jolted a little bit, but softened into the embrace.

It was comfy, warm. Prosperous, perhaps, because it meant something. Tara not jerking away and leaving once Isla offered a friendly embrace, was promising.

They spoke about the baby for a little while, and shared a few laughs at Tig's expense. It was strange, really. To be talking to her ex-best friend was strange, but she'd missed it.

Donna joined the mix, too, and it was starting to feel like old times. Isla recognized that they'd never slip back into that routine, the dedication to one another that they'd known when they were kids--but it was nice.

The conversation stuttered and it wasn't able to flow as freely as what she might've liked, but it was a start.

To know that she had something resembling an acquaintanceship with two women she admired, was nice.

And Jax introducing his baby to his brand new home, to his extended family that were already so fucking dedicated to him, was just the most wonderful thing ever.

"What about a beer?" Clay joked, holding the bottle close to Abel. Jax laughed, though he shook his hand away. "What? Grandpa can't give him his first beer?"

"No, he can't."

"I'll take it, though. If you're offerin'." Chibs grabbed the Budweiser and twisted the cap with the leather grip of his glove.

He gestured to Isla, tipping it toward her. "Want some?"

"No, you're alright." She went back to her wine, smiling at that little bundle of happiness in Jax's arms, wondering how the hell he'd gotten to be in this position now.

But it was because of Tara. Her commitment, her talent, and sheer want to help that angel through the roughest patch that a baby could have possibly been thrust into.

How Gemma could still loathe that girl--after everything she did--was beyond her completely.

Tara was the unlikeliest hero in Abel's story.

"Why is it that every time I see you, your highlights get more chunky?" Gemma smiled at the comment, turning to see her favorite girl, flaunting the most beautiful smile.

She handed Isla the bottle of whatever wine Chibs could get this evening, unable to quit beaming at the thought of her grandson finally being at home. Where he belonged.

"I told you I'd do them for you, Gem."

"I know," she nodded, playing with a few strands of hair, "I was gonna ask you, but you've been a little distant this week--didn't wanna add to your workload, baby."

"That's super considerate of you. Are you alright?" Isla teased, holding a hand to Gemma's forehead.

She slapped it away with a laugh. "Fuck you. I'm always considerate."

"Sure you are. That's why Wendy is here, right?"

"No," her head shook, "she's here 'cuz this is her house. If I had it my way, she'd be out on her ass faster than what you could even say 'crank whore.'"

Isla wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, tipping her head toward the blonde in the living room.

"I thought you made sure she was gonna be here tonight?" Confused, she quizzed.

She was under the impression that Wendy was starting to grow on her. After she'd tried to kill her, of course.

"I did," Gem confirmed. "But only because I knew it'd be awkward between her and Tara."

Amazed, or maybe fucking horrified, Isla simply glared at her.

It should've been obvious to her--plain as day--that Gemma Teller doing a good thing was simply a bullshit facade, built in order to take away from the fact she wanted to do an inherently bad thing.

But Isla liked to see the good in people, so it wasn't. And that really was one of her mot fatal flaws.

"She thanked me for letting her stay, too."

"And what'd you say to her?" Almost as if she didn't want to know the answer, she asked.

Black nails danced along the rim of her wine glass as she leaned against the counter, watching everybody enjoy themselves as they bitched and moaned.

"That she's lucky to be alive."

"Jesus, Gem," her head shook disparagingly, disappointed perhaps.

But being surprised that the woman made a threatening comment toward Wendy, was just as stupid as being surprised at Tig for fucking another hooker during his free time.

"You've gotta keep her close, ma. She's the mother of your grandson, the woman your son did love at one point."

Ma. The word rolled off her tongue unintentionally most of the time, but she didn't hate it.

Gemma was the mother figure in her life--hell, she was the mother figure in a few of the Sons' lives--and it didn't feel weird using that around her. It was affectionate. She adored it.

"Jax never loved her," matter of fact, she retorted. "They got drunk together. They smoked dope together. They didn't love one another--"

"They got married." Isla reminded her. "They have a kid together. They have a lot of history."

"Just because they have history, doesn't mean they love one another. You've got history with him."

Her chuckle was throaty, almost a full-on splutter. "We have not got that same history--we're friends, Gem, you know that's different."

She supposed the blonde was right.

There was hell of a contrast between friends for life and friends with benefits--and Gemma knew that. She just didn't like that Jax gravitated toward Wendy when he'd always had Isla right there in front of him.

Though, she was more than aware that the pair didn't look at each other that way--she still lauded the thought of the two together.

"I still hate her."

"I know," Isla laughed at Gemma's irritability, sipping on her wine, enjoying the sight of everybody having a damn good time.

"She's checking into rehab, too."

"Really? Where?"

"Some place in Oakland, I think." Gemma added, smiling at Clay when he wandered over to the pair. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"You think she's gonna stick to it?"

"Couldn't tell 'ya." He answered for his wife, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Isla's cheek. "She's determined though, I'll give her that."

"Yeah?" His nod was optimistic--strange for Clay Morrow. "Well, I'm glad she's working on herself, anyway. She's got potential."

"You hate her."

"I know." She didn't refute the assertion. "But I'm still happy for her."

At least somebody is.

She wasn't lying. Wendy was a good girl, a woman tortured for no good reason. And she felt for her, she really did.

It'd been a shock, finding out that she was pregnant. But it wasn't like they weren't expecting it--what with the rate she and Jax were going at it.

From the start, Isla and Gemma were worried. She was notorious for her crank habit and the girls thought she was going to kill herself before she had the chance to see her son into the world.

And that almost happened, didn't it?

The doctors at St. Thomas were fucking miracle workers--Isla was on pins and needles waiting for a call to say that Wendy and Abel were okay.

But she tried not to dwell on that, now. They were both as healthy and Abel was as happy as he could've been, so Isla was content. She wasn't pleased, but she was comfortable with the way that things were going.

Tara, however.

"No!" She yelled, backing out of the nursery. "No, fuck you, Jax."

Juice stumbled backward when she nudged him out of the way, pulling her purse from the kitchen counter.

Isla and Gemma couldn't not stare.

"Tara, c'mon!" Jax called after her, but it was too late.

The front door had been slammed shut and the party came to a complete standstill. A thickening tension was shrouding the group, and things were only just starting to simmer.

"What was that all about?" The blonde asked Juice, leaning against the island.

She didn't want to prove Tig to be right but, after a few glasses of wine, Juan Carlos Ortiz was starting to pique her interests.

He swallowed thickly, watching Clay leave the room. "He said something about Wendy--wanting to keep whatever it is that he and Tara have going on the down low so it doesn't set her off, or something."

Makes sense.

"He has a point. She's doing really well lately." He continued. "Jax would hate to stunt her progress by shoving his relationship with Tara in her face."

Isla was rattled.

Jax hadn't talked to her in days, and she wasn't aware that so much had changed. She wasn't aware that he had established a relationship with Tara Knowles.

Again.

You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another.

She was too irritated to reside in that same room as Gemma, now. Knowing the conversation she'd initiate the second that Juice left was too fucking much. So she left first, instead.

The living room was almost empty. Just Clay, Bobby, Tig, and Chibs sat around the couches as Donna, the kids, and Ope were preparing to set off.

Everything was annoying her, now. She hadn't made the effort with Donna all night, but she was pissed that she hadn't started to say goodbye to her yet.

Isla was so fucking irritated that she didn't even want to talk to Tig, or her father. So she didn't.

"Where're you going, petal?" Chibs asked, hindering her plan to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the night. He knew that she'd crack a smile at the nickname.

"I was just wandering. Not really sure what to do with myself."

"Come sit down," he gestured to the space between himself and Tig, and wound an arm around her when she met the leather. "I've missed 'ya."

"Tonight? Or just in general."

"In general. It's been a few days, love."

"I know, I'm sorry." Her head rested against his Sgt. At Arms patch, and she sighed. "Work has been so fucking busy and I feel like I haven't gotten a moment to myself this week."

Isla only worked a part-time gig at some shitty salon just on the outskirts of Charming--edging into Stockton--but she hated her job.

She hated driving into the city every morning and evening, wasting a fuck ton of her paycheck on gas when, really, there was no point.

She hated her cunt boss.

Hated her cunt clients.

She hated that nobody really spoke to her because of who her father was. And when they did speak to her, it was almost like they were scared. Of Isla.

Gemma had always promised her that there was a space at the auto shop for her had she needed it, but she couldn't think of anything worse than having to answer to Gemma and Clay every single day.

Well, more than what she already was, anyway.

"Who'd 'a thought that being a hairdresser was so demanding?"

"Me, apparently." She joked, watching Tig get up and leave the room.

It'd turned somber. A little too bleak for her liking, but she guessed that everyone felt a bit awkward after Tara stamped out and Jax sat on his porch. Alone. With a bottle of whiskey.

She hated the hold that woman had over him sometimes. The way he was so fucking devoted to Tara Knowles that she could literally slap him, scream in his face, and ruin his son's homecoming party--and he would still pine for her.

She'd never understand that.

And she didn't understand how such a lively bunch of individuals had mellowed out over the course of two hours, either.

The party had disappeared. Dissipated into nothing and the atmosphere she once lauded was completely dead in the water.

It was fucking grim, and she couldn't wait to head home.

"Can I come with you tonight?"

"Why'd you even ask? Y'know you're welcome to come home with your old man whenever you want." Chibs told her a little bit stern, though it was essentially full of love.

She just smiled up at him, a bit buzzed. But she was having a good-ish time and who was he to chastise her for drinking a little too much tonight?

"Wanna head off now?"

"Yeah--lemme just say 'bye' to Gemma."

"Alright, I'll be out front. Don't forget your purse." He reminded, knowing she was too ditsy for her own good.

Chibs helped her to her feet, letting go of her hand only to part ways for a few moments.

Her mood was perking up, now. The prospect of being able to spend a few hours with her dad after a long fucking day, was just the best.

And she'd really missed him. Missed the time they once had an abundance of. Missed the evenings that they'd spend talking, drinking, watching movies, doing the generic father daughter activities.

They hadn't had that for a while, and it was truly a blessing that it was within reach tonight.

Well. It was within reach for all of five minutes.

"Oh my God--" Gemma's cell slipped from between black nails and bounced across the table. Saturated hues were locked on Isla, and her head shook.

"What?"

"There's--there's been an accident." She managed to muster out. "Or, maybe a drive-by, I don't know, but Donna--"

"Donna?" Piney's attention was snatched at the mention of his daughter-in-law. He stood up. "What about her?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Gemma was going to say because it was just the usual now, wasn't it?

Being affiliated with SAMCRO just did that to somebody. Man, woman, child. They didn't fucking care.

"She's--Piney, she's dead."

#tig trager #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager fic #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy #jax teller x oc #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller

[trans-cuchulainn]

What are the major details that confused you about the Hound blurb? The major one that stood put to me was the "way of the farmer opposed to the sword" thing which felt very...un-Cú Chulainn. Also, if you don't mind expanding further, which details didn't you question/be confused by?

and also for anon:

okay so it is like. 2am so there are not going to be any sources here but i can't sleep so here goes!! i will go through this blurb line by line and give youse my thoughts

In 50 BCE,

reasonable. this is roughly the right time period for when the ulster cycle is set. maybe marginally earlier than i'd place cú chulainn, but i'm talking a few years, nothing to get worked up about.

Morrigan, the goddess of war,

fine. normally i'm wary of pantheonising impulses with regard to irish characters (almost none of them can be identified as a god of anything in particular, it doesn't work like that) but tbh the morrigan is like, the most plausible exception to that, so whatever. normally her name has the definite article attached to it because it's kind of a species term as well but whatevs.

has become restless as a long-lasting peace settles over Ireland.

dubious. closest i can think of to peace being reference in any texts is togail bruidne da derga talking about conaire mor's reign being like, prosperous and peaceful and whatever, and even there you've got díberg (plundering/reaving) which is what eventually fucks him over and starts the otherworldly hell spiral situation. that's roughly the right period here but conaire's doom proves you don't have to do much to nudge peace into war, and connacht and ulster are at each other's throats for years before cú chulainn comes on the scene anyway

Deciding the time of peace must end, she chooses Setanta, the nephew of the king of the north, to become her ward.

hmm. i mean. like, this isn't the WEIRDEST choice they could have made. it's still completely made-up, don't get me wrong -- cú chulainn has a lot of different foster parents in different texts and they don't agree with each other but none of them ever mentions the morrígan. but like, they do have a connection of some sort, as evidenced by their conversations. and there's that one moment in the r1 boyhood deeds where little cú chulainn is out on the battlefield and hears her (not sure which name is used here) calling out to him and it like. motivates him to do some deeds or whatever, and i guess you could extrapolate that into some kind of teaching capacity.

so like. could be weirder. if you're gonna pick anyone, you could do worse. still seems weird to me! but not on its own a major issue, i could get past this and consider it a Fun But Unorthodox Creative Decision

(the fact that she tries to seduce him in the táin probably wouldn't get in the way of this considering sleeping with his teachers/foster-mothers is far from unheard of where cú chulainn is concerned)

After a young Setanta slays the demon-hound of Cullan, he becomes known as Cú Cullan—The Hound of Cullan.

weird spelling choices, they could have at least bothered to use the genitive properly. also the hound isn't a demon, it's a ferocious watchdog -- making it sound all Otherworldly and Hellish like this kinda confuses the issue of why he would need to take its place. he needs to take its place because the cattle and people still need protecting because it is a watchdog!! but whatevs, again, it's a brief summary so they can't exactly give us all the details and this is not actively objectionable

As Cú Cullan grows older, it is apparent that an extraordinary power lies within him … and a great darkness.

ugh boring. this makes it sound like he's going to be ~tortured~ and angsty about it. give me an unapologetic murder teen please. is the ríastrad dark? sure i guess, if you're going to be boring about it. it's more like, grotesque neon in my head

When he chooses the quiet life of a farmer over the sword,

this would fucking never happen on like five different levels. obviously like anyone who has ever read anything about cú chulainn can see that this is not in his nature. he is never going to choose a quiet life. this is the kid who tricked his way into taking arms before everyone thought he was ready. also juxtaposed with the "darkness" comment makes it sound like he would Angst his way into this quiet life which. again. have you seen this kid. he is an unapologetic murder teen

the only thing i can think of that might make him temporarily want to walk away is connla's death which... depends where you position that in the timeline really, he does seem a bit fucked up by it and maybe he'd want a holiday although i can see that lasting precisely 5 minutes before someone pissed him off enough for him to murder them. but if he's being raised by the morrígan i can't see him going to train with scáthach so then he'd never meet aífe and therefore connla would never be born so that wouldn't happen. so like. whatever.

but also like. he would not become a farmer. he just wouldn't! it doesn't work! the ireland of the stories is super hierarchical, right? and this blurb has already fucking told us that he's the king's nephew (canon) so we can tell that being a farmer is Not His Place. when we see upper class figures becoming menial labourers in texts, like in cath maige tuired, it's because Things Are Fucked, Shit's Gone Wrong. people don't just decide to change their entire social class on a whim lmfao

if cú chulainn really wanted to turn his back on being a warrior he could probably make recourse to certain other Suitable Professions ... his grandad's a druid so he might have a route into that, though his dad's not so that might fuck things up a bit bc it's one of those things that's usually inherited. he does give "wisdom" in at least one text though and we also know he can write (he carves riddles in ogham in the táin) and he composes verses on various occasions so idk, maybe something in a poetic direction, though again, usually requires two generations of inheritance to be a real poet and not just a lower-class bard. warrior's kinda the main thing he's got open to him tbh. but farming? i'm not a legal expert but as far as i'm aware based on what i have read, that would fuck shit up

more likely an upset cú chulainn would just go off in search of an adventure somewhere conveniently far away until he'd calmed down (alba, or the tyrrhenian sea, or -- if we're going to get early modern about it -- somewhere like india, which frequently gets thrown into the texts with absolutely no cultural context and it's always hilarious)

Morrigan, angry at the betrayal,

of the entire social order, yes,

instigates an invasion of his homeland

i mean. if they intend this to be the táin then.... táin bó regamna does kinda make the morrígan responsible for it? not in the sense of triggering the pillow talk argument that it's in the book of leinster -- it's her getting up to her usual cow-nicking behaviours for shits and giggles. [note to readers: it is probably for more than shits and giggles but did i mention it's 2am]

but all in all, not particularly out of character that she would be at least some way responsible for this so i can vibe with this. echtra nerai also supports the TBR explanation with her fucking around with otherworldly cows and pissing people off so, yeah, whatever. the morrígan engineered this. sure.

and Cú Cullan must challenge fate itself

this is probably a controversial stance but fate feels like a difficult concept to apply to medieval irish texts. like are people sometimes Doomed? yes. there are prophecies, there are gessi, there's all manner of otherworldly fuckery that can trip you up. is that the same thing as fate? no idea. considering cú chulainn comes out alive from the táin though and his doom prophecies don't catch up to him for like, at least another decade, maybe 16 years depending on who you listen to, hard to see how that would apply here

to keep the goddess at bay.

again like she IS causing fuckery in the táin but also it's like... one time. really not the main character. but she or maybe just some crows, hard to say, do get implicated in the death tale so maybe they're doing what people often do and conflating the two? even though there's like 10-16 years in between them?

anyway as you can see i don’t think it’s wholly terrible / i’m not completely thinkshaming it. like, having cú chulainn raised by the morrígan is unorthodox but it could be a fun and creative direction so i don't object to it. making cú chulainn get sad about murder and choose to be a farmer is just fucking laughable tho, and makes me doubt their characterisations in general. so that's offputting and would probably make me think twice about buying it, if that had ever been on the cards.*

and of course sure, their cú chulainn can be a Sad Boy Who Likes Sheep, but that means he's not the cú chulainn of medieval irish lit / irish myth, because that cú chulainn is a feral murder teen who keeps killing his friends and also is way too high social status to ever be a farmer, and whose only relationship to livestock is as the watchdog who kills anyone trying to harm them (which is an important role on a farm! but like. not the same thing as Being A Farmer. mostly because it involves more murder and is essentially just an extension of his role as a warrior. or rather the other way around. he promises to protect mag muirthemne as a watchdog and this like. gets extended into him becoming its sole defender)

this has been my analysis of this blurb i hope you enjoyed it

it's now 2.30am i should try and sleep now that i've exorcised a few thoughts from my head

*as i mentioned in the tags of my other post, i don't tend to read graphic novels due to disability stuff. they're much harder for me to understand and follow than prose, to the point where some are incomprehensible, so i don't really enjoy them. there are a few i've read, but they tend to be short ones, and i'm usually not reading them in order, just admiring the art separately from the text. so it's unlikely i would read a graphic novel of this size anyway.

#cu chulainn #hound #hound graphic novel #answered #oddnub-eye #anonymous #irish mythology #medieval irish #tain bo cuailnge

[annavoncleves]

the saga of henry the young king

ok so, henry the young king, eldest (living) son of henry ii (he did have an older brother, william, but william died as a baby so in practice henry's oldest) dad's the king of england, lord of wales and ireland, count of anjou and maine and aquitaine, and eventually brittany

lots of titles, lots of sons as well, and rather than the oldest son getting everything like comes in later (unless he's an only child/only has sisters) at this point he has to share with his brothers, though he does get the Best Cut, which in this case is the kingship of england

BUT

kingdoms are a lil different to other realms, in that, whilst counties and duchys can be split whilst dad's still alive, bc those are vassals of the kingdom, the throne can't be split up, obviously

so even though henry is named 'henry the young king' (an attempt at securing the throne, after the absolute clusterfuck that happened to henry ii's mother, empress matilda, whose throne was stolen by her cousin stephen after her father's death, bc she was a) a woman, gasp and b) the lords of england didn't think SWEARING AN OATH TO RECOGNISE HER AS QUEEN BEFORE THEIR KING AND PEERS was BINDING ENOUGH, so that henry's chosen heir would. actually get the throne when he died) he has no actual power

which tbh, looking at his record, is probably a good thing, bc although he thought a lot of himself, he wasn't actually that great a leader of men

he was a very good jouster tho, but that's neither here nor there 

SO. henry ii is king. henry the young king is basically the king-in-waiting, whilst all his legitimate* younger brothers get THEIR inheritances (well, richard and geoffrey do, getting aquitaine and brittany. john - later known as bad king john, yes the bad guy in robin hood, he's based off THIS john - is the youngest and doesn't get shit, gaining him the nickname 'lackland') 

*henry ii was a bit of a slut, but all kings were, and was actually pretty good to his bastard sons, by the standards of the day, anyway. he made one of them an important bishop and gave the other a position at court. fun fact, when henry ii does eventually die, it's one of his illegitimate sons at his bedside, and none of his legitimate sons

[in the words of the astounding @searchingforserendipity25: “to be the only illegitimate son at that bedside, crowded by all those absences” damn queen, go off]

BUT. henry the young king, king in name, but JUNIOR king, and only titular. younger brothers get their lands. he's pissed.

daaaaad, he whines, i want a go at ruling now

i'm ruling now, wait your turn, henry ii says

no, fuck you, henry the young king says and starts a rebellion

despite being... well, a bit useless, henry the young king is VERY popular (idk, bc he was moderately handsome and good at jousting?? it makes no sense to me why the people liked him as much as they did, he didn't exactly do anything to earn their love or allegiance as far as i can see) and quite a few lords get behind him

also wanting a bigger portion than they've been given, richard and geoffrey join the rebellion, bc they want more of that sweet, sweet land, as does their mother eleanor of aquitaine who fell out with her husband at some point

henry ii, against all expectations, successfully puts down the rebellion and henry the young king et al are in troubleeee, but henry ii can't afford to really punish his ungrateful offspring as much as he'd probably like, so he goes the other way and gives henry the young king a nice big allowance to keep him happy, which works for a little bit

then henry the young king, beautiful imbecile that he is, decides he's gonna rebel again. it ends the same way. he's just not very good at war, is the only conclusion i can come to

SO the second rebellion is in progress (henry the young king is allied with his brother geoffrey again, but not richard, who appears to have learned his lesson... for now. richard does rebel again later, but he waits for the right moment, proving he had some degree of intelligence that the other two... lacked) when henry the young king gets sick

i'm gonna have to copy and paste from wikipedia for this bit to explain what he was sick WITH bc there is no way i can beat this: "[Henry] had just finished pillaging local monasteries to raise money to pay his mercenaries [when] he contracted dysentery at the beginning of June."

you heard that right

he got dysentry whilst PILLAGING CHURCHES

it was a real Bruh moment for karma

anyway, he starts getting sicker and sicker until it becomes clear He Ain't Surviving This, at which point he does what a lot of people do when faced with the reality of their own mortality: say 'oh shit, i fucked up' and try and apologise

he's also pretty out of it so at some point in a presumably feverish stupor 'as a token of his penitence for his war against his father, he prostrated himself naked on the floor before a crucifix'. just stripped off, got on his belly, presumably in one of the few moments he was not shitting himself, and says 'lol my bad'

unfortunately for henry the young king, he's got form for being a tricksy, underhanded bitch. (seriously, why was he so popular?? enquiring minds - mine - would like to know) and when the messenger gets to his dad saying 'welp, i'm dying, i'm real sorry about the wars, come see me on my deathbed?

henry ii takes one look at that and goes: 'he's not really dying, is he?’

the messenger: uh. yeah. really dying.

henry ii: sounds fake

the messenger: no, he's really really sorry and really really dying

henry ii: this is Definitely A Trap

so henry ii isn't gonna be taken to a secondary location to get imprisoned or murdered by his rebellious son, which u can't entirely blame him for, considering henry the young king is currently In The Process Of Attempting To Depose Him when this all goes down, BUT henry ii also figures that if his son really is dying, and he doesn't grant him forgiveness, then he's gonna be haunted by that shit/his son won't find peace/bad things will happen. so he takes one of his rings and gives it to the messenger and says, take this to my son as a token of my forgiveness. the ring couldn't come from anyone else, so henry the young king will know it really comes from his father, and henry ii doesn't get possibly murdered, so everybody wins!

messenger goes back to henry the young king, who we presume has now got some clothes on, or at least a strategically placed sheet, and gives him the ring. as expected, henry the young king dies soon after, get this, holding the ring that his father sent him.

like. i don't think he was a good king. i don't think he would've been a good king. but. he dies holding onto this ring. and he's got a lot of people around him, but his dad isn't there, just this ring. 

when henry ii gets the news that henry the young king is really, really dead now, he is meant to have said the absolute soul-crusher of a quote that made me want to tell you this whole saga in the first place: "He cost me much, but I wish he had lived to cost me more."

like??? this kid tried to overthrow his dad. TWICE. he spent all the money his dad gave him and then some, which led to the aforementioned pillaging monasteries, he signed up to go on crusade that his dad specifically told him not to fucking go on (which he died before he could fulfil)... he did EVERYTHING wrong. like. so much.

and his dad just wants his pillaging, disobedient and wasteful son back.

and that is the story of henry the young king, the only junior king england ever had.

#henry the young king #henry ii #the plantagenets #plantagenet era #angevin empire #storytime! #yes i did copy and paste this from my ims with searchingforserendipity25 bc she told me it was good #yes i know it will get no notes #history #british history #english history #we love a dysfunctional family

[noctuaas]

AS YOU WISH; t. kuroo

synopsis; in this tale of romance, revenge, and treason, you, a beautiful commoner, are set to become the princess of aobajousai. will your one true love be able to save you in time?

pairing; kuroo tetsurou x reader

content; princess bride au (heavily based on both the movie and novel), medieval au, torture, mild violence, drama, fantasy/adventure, murder, fem!reader

fic navigation

01 ; THE BRIDE

TO BE THE MOST beautiful girl in the world was a concept far past your concern. Those around you certainly saw the potential, but at 16 years old, you simply could not care less to capitalize on your natural beauty. (Beauty routines were exhausting in your eyes. You only washed your face so as not to feel filthy, taking a razor to your leg hair was far more trouble than it seemed worth, and you were quite sick of brushing your hair, so you did so as little as possible.) All you really wanted to do was ride your horse and pester the farm boy that worked for your parents.

Prince, as you had taken to calling the horse when he was just a yearling, was a loyal companion. Other girls your age grew attached to one of their herding dogs’ pups, or the kitten of a barn cat, but you had Prince. He always came when you called, steered where you told him even on a loose rein, nuzzled your face on bad days. 

For all the time you spent taunting and bossing the farm boy around—“Farm Boy, fetch me this,” and “Farm Boy, take care of that,”—he always had one thing in common with the horse: he always did as he was told.

(Perhaps you knew that he was really a young man now—he was a year or two older than you—but he had been just an orphaned boy when he first came to work for your father, so that was what you referred to him as: Farm Boy.)

“As you wish,” he always replied, without fail.

Your father was fond of the farm boy, often remarking how he should leave him an acre of land in his will for all his hard work. These conversations never lasted long though, not before your parents would turn to you and chide you for needing to go bathe again and clean yourself up after spending the day in the barn.

Despite your disdain for taking care of yourself like a “proper lady,” as your mother liked to say, your natural beauty was still enough to cause the village boys to flock to you. Those dimwits always liked to badger you with stupid questions whenever you rode into town, offering silly favors and making awkward small talk, much to dismay of the rest of the girls in the village. The boys were always so annoying, and you often noted how much more tolerable Farm Boy was as you dismissed their advances. Eventually they took to making fun of you, laughing over snide remarks about you because they must have been embarrassed about being shot down. Sometimes the insults were too much to ignore, and when that was the case, Farm Boy took matters into his own hands. You always thanked him after he sent a village boy home bloodied and crying, and he always answered, “As you wish.”

You came to realize that Farm Boy was the only boy your age whose presence you seemed to enjoy. One night, you lied awake with the dim light from a full moon crawling through your window, thinking about how he was always kind and respectful to you, how he protected you and your honor, how he seemed to smile at you differently than he ever smiled at the other girls in town. (You also let yourself admit that he was quite handsome, with his amber eyes and ebony hair that was always in a perfect bedhead state, which was something you had never bothered caring about before.)

After that, your time was no longer divided between riding your horse and pestering the farm boy; now, ‘pestering’ was to be replaced with ‘falling for’. You let him join you on rides through the woods on Prince; you began doing your morning reading in the barn to keep him company while he fed the animals; you took it upon yourself to take out any extra supper your mother cooked to him. You even decided to stop calling him ‘Farm Boy’.

“What’s your actual name, Farm Boy?” you asked out of the blue.

“Why do you ask?” he had replied, and you snorted in mild amusement.

“Well, after having known you all these years, it must be quite rude of me to still call you ‘Farm Boy’.”

He paused and grinned that endearing grin of his, “Just call me Kuroo, then.”

Everything was so blissful for the year following. You loved Kuroo, and he loved you. Even on the day the royal Count and Countess of Aobajousai had strangely paid your family a visit, you both were sure of this; because while the Countess took Kuroo’s arm gently for him to show her the dairy cows and the Count watched you intently as you followed the small procession on your horse, you and Kuroo both stared at each other.

At the end of one year though, Kuroo unexpectedly showed up at your window in the middle of the night.

“I’ve come to say goodbye.”

You shot up straight in your bed, cocking your head incredulously, “What do you mean, ‘goodbye’?”

“I mean I’m leaving.”

“Leaving? Have I done—”

“I’m taking to the sea to seek my fortune,” he cut you off. “There’s a ship that sails out of Karasuno, to the new country of Inarizaki. There’s great opportunity there, so I’m going.”

You were shell-shocked for a moment. Leaving? Sailing to Inarizaki? Where was this all coming from?

“But why? What about the farm? What about us?” You finally said. Your voice was already beginning to quiver pathetically as tears brimmed in your eyes.

“I’ve been training at night, so I hardly need sleep or food, and I’ll get two 10-hour-a-day jobs. I’m gonna save every penny, and in just a couple years I’ll have enough to buy a big farm and build a brand new house just for the two of us.”

“For the two of us?” Your brows furrowed and your voice was meek.

“Yes, (y/n). I love you. All these years I’ve stayed here because of you. I’ve taught myself foreign languages, made my body strong, everything, for you. I’ve been head over heels for you since I was a kid. Do you understand what I’m saying, or should I keep going?”

(By now, Kuroo had squeezed his broad frame through your window, somehow landing gracefully on the floor and sliding next to you on your bed so he could wipe away your tears with his thumb. It was a good thing he was athletic enough to do so quietly, because if your parents caught him in your room, all hell might break loose.)

“Never stop,” you mumbled dreamily.

“There hasn’t been a day—”

“You better not be teasing me, Kuroo, or I’ll have your hide,” you broke in this time. Kuroo loved to tease you, and it was normally all in good fun, but if that was the case now, then he was taking it way too far.

“I’d never joke about loving you,” he replied. “Remember all those years when you would tell me, ‘Farm Boy, do this, Farm Boy, do that’? What did I always say?”

“‘As you wish’.”

“Well, that’s just what you thought I was saying. I was actually saying ‘I love you’,” Kuroo smiled gently and ran his fingers through your hair.

All that time? You couldn’t even recall the first time Kuroo started saying ‘As you wish’ to all your commands, but apparently he had been in love with you. Before you had ever even noticed him, he was devoted to you. It sounded like a fairy tale.

“I love you too, Kuroo. I’ll never stop loving you, I swear,” you finally said.

“I’ll hold you to it, princess. I have to go now if I want to make it to Karasuno in time, but I’ll send for you soon. Promise.”

You nodded in understanding, but you couldn’t let him leave without one last kiss.

There had been five great kisses since the beginning of time. Though the precise rating of kisses is a bit convoluted and controversial (everyone knows that the formula for a great kiss is comprised of timing, affection, intensity, and duration, but there has never been a universal agreement on each element’s weight), there was no doubt that this kiss left every other in the dust.

The following morning, all you wanted to do was lay around and mope. It was perfectly justifiable, considering the love of your life had just left the country, and you wouldn’t see him for God knows how long. You wallowed in self pity for about an hour before realizing that Kuroo was out in the great big world now, and with as handsome as he was, he would surely have women throwing themselves at him.

What if all this moping destroys my beauty, and when he sends for me, I’ll arrive in Inarizaki, and he’ll take one look at me and send me back?

“Mother,” you ran downstairs, interrupting whatever petty argument your parents were having. “I need your advice. How can I better take care of my appearance?”

“You’ve never cared about your appearance, honey. Why are you asking this all of a sudden?”

“Well, I’m nearly 18 now. I figure it’s about time I start behaving a little more like a lady,” you lied. It was enough to appease your mother, and she grabbed your arm and began dragging you to the washroom in delight.

You quickly learned that taking such care of yourself was hard work; the saying, ‘beauty is pain,’ made an awful lot of sense now. But for Kuroo, nothing was too much. Every morning, you awoke at dawn to start the farm chores. You had to pick up all the slack left by Kuroo, so there wasn’t really any time for self-improvement until the afternoon, but once you started, you took it very seriously. Daily baths, simple exercises, and all the time it took to brush your hair out perfectly before bed.

If the whole town thought you were beautiful before, now they all knew you must be a contender for the most beautiful girl in the world. You, however, still had no care for how beautiful the rest of the world found you; as long as Kuroo found you beautiful. (In the coming years, you would learn that you were beautiful no matter what, and simplify your beauty routine to what you liked. As long as you felt clean and tidy, that was sufficient.)

Kuroo wrote you letters every few months, and you kept every one of them. Sometimes people would ask you how he was doing, which was a mistake unless they had a lot of spare time, because you could talk about him for hours. It was obvious that you were completely and utterly in love, and so the village boys eventually stopped trying, and the village girls warmed back up to you.

It made sense the way Kuroo’s death hit you the way it did.

The news reached your parents first. The Count (a new fellow named Iwaizumi, appointed by Prince Oikawa shortly after the last one’s death) was sent to your farm to deliver the news since it was Kuroo’s last known place of residence. You were returning from town on your horse when Count Iwaizumi was leaving your property.

“Miss,” he nodded politely as you crossed paths. You rode on in confusion, and the new Count watched you intently, much like the last one.

When you made it into the house, both your parents hushed up and looked at you with pity.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s The Crow’s Wing, darling. It was attacked,” your mother told you.

Kuroo’s ship was attacked? You furrowed your brows, “What?”

“Pirates. In the night,” your father explained.

You knew the trip across the sea would be dangerous, but you never thought it would happen to him. Sliding into a chair, you decided it might be best to sit down.

The room was quiet until you managed to squeak out, “So Kuroo’s been taken prisoner, then?”

A long sigh from your parents, and then, a, “No.”

“It was the Dread Pirate Nekomata.”

You blinked, willing back tears. The Dread Pirate Nekomata was the most famous pirate in all the world, and he never took prisoners. In all these years in his reign of terror, no one survived an attack from the Dread Pirate Nekomata.

You went to your room, and this time around, you allowed yourself to mope. For six days, you sulked, and cried, and mourned. Not once did you come out of your room, so your parents took to leaving food outside your door, which you only ever picked at meekly. During those six days in your room, you decided you would never love again.

#ITS HAPPENING YES #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagine #hq fanfic #hq x reader #hq imagine #hq scenario #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo fanfic #kuroo scenario #my writing

[chronicbatfictioner]

"Overall, it wasn't so bad..." Tim commented.

"Except for the fact that Bane roared like a constipated bear and literally lunged at Damian and Jason threw him out the window..." Barbara quipped, her face serious but her lips were still twitching. "I... am highly amused. Twice."

"You were laughing until you bent over double that if you weren't in a wheelchair, you've probably knelt on the floor laughing." Dinah deadpanned. "It was hilarious."

"Yes, it was. The fact that Jason could actually lift Bane and throw him out... Did you guys see Bruce's face, though! Oh my god! He... he looked at Jason as if he'd seen the lord savior Jésus Todd or something!" Tim crowed. "Like, the dude Bane got thrown out a bay window twice. I get the awe, I was a little star-struck myself. But I can't believe dude actually wanted to try the third time until Alfred pointed a damn shotgun to his forehead! I can't even!"

"This thus solidifies my thoughts that the Waynes may be trying to figure out a way to get rid of this... brute without... I dunno..." Barbara pondered.

"Gotten themselves broken in half?" Tim suggested. "He sure insinuated that he would do such a thing to Damian."

"Oh, gee, Tim. Which part of his speech insinuated that? 'You lying bastard!', or 'I'll break you in halves!'?"

"I'm partial to the 'bastard' remark, really. I mean, pot, kettle?" Tim replied, giggling.

"Technically," Helena Bertinelli - The Huntress - sighed as she chimed in; "and ironically, at that; the 'bastard' would be Bane since he claimed to be Thomas Wayne's son and is younger than Bruce. Which means he was 'conceived' while Dr Thomas was already married to Mrs Wayne..."

"Right? Bruce and Talia were two consenting adults, albeit under 20 years old; and were wed in a local ritual witnessed by locals, according to Jason. You should see Bane's face when Jason presented copies of the marriage's registry." Tim continued.

"Oh, we saw, all right. Harper's drones worked quite well." Dinah replied, snickering, referring to Harper Row, one of their tech 'consultants'. "Even at that height, it still delivered crystal clear pictures. I vote we use them again."

"No vote needed, the drones are on stand-by at the Wayne Manor permanently at this point. I'm more interested in his reaction when Damian offered them a DNA test." Barbara told her.

"I'm more interested in Bruce Wayne's reaction, really. He didn't seem too surprised, as if he was expecting this to happen or something." Helena pointed out.

"Maybe he did," Barbara replied absently. "Dude has been swingin' more than the roarin' 50s, there has got to be some juniors out there that even he didn't know of."

"Ugh, while I'm not a fan of Bruce Wayne's womanizing ways, I personally don't think he's that reckless. He's not a drinker or a junkie, as far as I know. He has virtually no vice other than extreme sports." Helena argued.

"I agree," Selina, who has been quietly watching from the corner, chimed in. "This is a guy who got visibly antsy when some sexy girls in bikinis come up to him - I thought he was gay. But if he'd been... wedded to Talia Al Ghul all these times, that would make sense. He knew exactly where he stood, and what would come up if he screwed it up."

"Has Jason or Dick said anything of the Doc and Mama Wayne's reaction?" Helena asked.

"They seemed truly confused, a little apprehensive, but didn't seem to be opposed to the idea that Damian is Bruce's child. Dr Wayne said that a DNA test wouldn't be necessary, but Jason insisted it." Tim replied, and added a little absently a few heartbeats later. "But why would he, a physician with more specialties than a truck stop, would not question the biology of anyone claiming to be his biological descendant?"

Barbara glared at Tim, "excellent question, Tim. If my dad has someone coming out of the boonies saying he's related to me, the first thing dad would do is draw blood."

"They... don't care?" Dinah suggested. "Maybe the Wayne men were less... chaste than they appear?"

Barbara glared at her this time. "Of all the women Bruce Wayne has dated, I've only recorded a handful who would end up in a second date. Less than a handful who were actually mentioned beyond social media photos; and you know how I feel with social media photos: generic, unverifiable, and showoff-only. Dates with Bruce Wayne generally would start with the pick-up, dinner, and then some form of jewelry. I..." she looked at Selina and Helena, "you've both dated him at one point or the other."

Selina shrugged, "I went for a gala dinner, and was honestly there to scope the homeowner's safe, really. I wasn't interested in a follow-up date." she replied. "Helena?"

"Social arrangement. My people called his people and boom, we were on a red carpet." she elaborated. Helena was a part of a mafia family, until she decided that the mafia way would not be the best way to make Gotham a happy place for all, and donned the costume of the Huntress to hunt down wrongdoers. Barbara had decided to let her join to prevent her from going over the line and murder anyone out of overzealous-ness; but also in order to get a line-in into the mafia families.

"No second dates, either, huh?"

"No, I'll have to check, though. I think his people called me again, but I wasn't interested in a vapid playboy, even if he has more money than Jesus."

"Vicky Vale," Selina reminded. "She has had a... somewhat lengthy relationship with Bruce some years ago."

"Sooo... the next answer in our mystery could probably be answered by interviewing an investigative journalist." Tim commented.

"Oh, no..." Barbara grinned mischievously. "Not this investigative journalist. I know just the journalist to talk to when it comes to gossip among themselves."

Dinah snorted a laugh. "I thought you didn't like her."

"I liked Vale less," Barbara griped. "Plus, Vale is already getting news on Bruce's probable child; why shouldn't I send Lois Lane the allegations of the Bane Conspiracy?"

"Conspiracy with who?" Dinah asked curiously.

"Oh, the Waynes, of course, to get rid of the Court of Owls," Barbara smirked. "Why should we be the only ones racking our respective and collective brains when we can have someone else on the ground doing the grunt work?"

"Babs, you can be... pretty evil sometimes," Selina remarked. "I know there's got to be a reason why I like you."

"I'm also awesome with technology and can launder your ill-gotten money and make it legal and undetected." Barbara pointed out.

"Oh no, that's why I liked you." Helena quipped smirking. "Seriously, how many mob family can say their ill-gotten money is accountable by law?"

"As long as it is within the facets of the law, and so on and so forth... Anyway! Tim, you're quiet for more than two seconds. I'm always nervous when you're quiet."

"Just thinking..." Tim said, looking a little lost in his own brain. He often does that when he has at least a dozen scenarios running through his mind. Through the time of Barbara knowing him, Tim would probably be the only person whose claims of 'just thinking' wouldn't immediately be picked on by anybody.

"Care to share with the class, kitten?" Selina prompted.

"It's not fully mapped yet... but I was thinking. What if the Waynes aren't... didn't cooperate with Bane in order to destroy the Court of Owls, and they're literally being hostages in their own home? What if Bruce Wayne has predicted something like this could happen, and has gotten himself all prepared all the way to ten years ago when he wedded Talia Al Ghul? I mean, who would have had enough firepower to defeat Bane other than the Al Ghuls? Look at Jason," Tim pointed out. "He threw Bane out the window as if he was a fly. While Jason is as solid as a rock but isn't a metahuman - Bane is. He was assigned by Talia herself - out of Gotham - to protect and guide Damian-- why? What's so special about Jason Todd? Why did Talia choose him? Why didn't Bruce Wayne - at least - act shocked when Damian said he was his son? Surprised, sure. But not shocked or in denial.

"Who's gonna win if Bane turned out to be Dr Wayne's son? Who's gonna lose? What will they lose? Who is Bane accountable to? If none, who planted the idea of him being Dr Wayne's son? Because from what I've read about him, he was born and raised in a prison with his mother - no mention of a father. His mother was an insurgent of Hasaragua, fighting against US-condoned democracy. And while there was a record of Dr Wayne being there, there was no exact date and length of stay, because he was there privately and not as a part of Médecin sans Frontieres or something like that.

"What about Mrs Wayne? She wasn't a poor or uneducated woman, since she was a Kane. Society-wise, do you think she would have tolerated her husband's indiscretion, both then and now? Yet she kept quiet for nearly two months. She has a Ph.D. in psychiatry, and would she be the ones to keep quiet about DNA testing and all that? Personally, I don't think so. If my mother - a little 'lesser' society lady compared to Martha Kane-Wayne - ever got a word of a child that 'probably' got fathered by my dad, she would have demanded a divorce right away without bothering with a paternity test, sure. But my dad, who was also a society man, would have at least attempted to convince her that it was a mistake and/or it was a lie. What best method to decide a child's paternity than DNA test?

"The criminal front in general - especially the costumed criminals - has been pretty quiet since Bane eliminated the Court of Owls. Why? That's rather stupid since we know that the Court's Talons were the ones who made moves to 'discourage' the costumed freaks. Annnd... that's where I couldn't map out things further." Tim rambled.

"Keep talking, even half sentences are better than none, Timmy." Barbara prompted. Tim might have had a brain that worked a mile a minute, but he was still very young and would often get flustered with himself. Barbara, on the other hand, has an eidetic memory, and things Tim said tend to stick to her brain and would fill the gaps in any puzzles she might be thinking about. Even half sentences.

"Right, I do the fact spreads, you do the jigsaw-puzzling." Tim nodded. "The murders of Talia and Ra's Al Ghul. Jason said they were deliberately murdered in a way that they would never be able to be resurrected through the Lazarus Pit. The perpetrators would be the League of Shadows, a rogue splinter of the League of Assassins. Lead by Lady Shiva. Why? Why were they murdered? Why now and not - say - next year or last year? Who benefited by their death? Aaand... I'm done, for now, I think..."

"I... can feel a headache brewing," Dinah admitted. "You and your conspiracy theories." she rubbed Tim's head fondly. Tim gave her a half-smile, still trying to articulate the thoughts in his head.

"That's why we need him, he takes the most random input and makes a theory out of it, and some of them would actually make sense. I'll start a search string based on some of your questions. If you have more, don't hesitate to tell me, Tim." Barbara realized belatedly that her tone sounded dismissive, and turned to Tim. "Want me to call up for Chinese and powwow a little more?" she added.

Tim shook his head, still glaring blankly. "Thanks, I gotta go... I've some... things to look into. Thanks, Babs," he replied, ending it with a genuine smile as he got up.

"Want to come home with me, Kitten?" Selina asked, worry for Tim apparent on her normally-blank face.

"No, thanks, Ma. I gotta go back to the mansion, just in case, right?" Tim pointed out.

"Then Dinah should go with you," Selina decided.

"She's coming there later, right, aunt Dinah?" Tim asked. Dinah nodded.

"I'll get home with food, so don't worry about that, kiddo." she said. Tim waved them all and then walked out.

Once he was out of the door, Selina sighed. "Ah, young love..."

"Right? Remind me to check in on him before going to the House. I don't want to walk in on something and have him traumatized." Dinah agreed.

Barbara glared at them quizzically, and then at Helena, who shrugged. "Grayson said it first, I think. Our kitten is growing up. I just hope that Jason guy is worth his firsts..."

The memory of Tim gawking at Jason when he thought Barbara wasn't watching flashed in her mind.

Oh.

And then of Jason blatantly checking Tim out just before Oracle made her appearance, and at times when her Oracle projection was turned off.

"Oh boy," she sighed.

"That's about it in a nutshell. Good thing I've told him of the birds and the birds..." Selina grinned slyly.

"Millennial parenting at best, Ms Selina Kyle." Dinah grinned. "Come on, let's go patrol and induce the fear of goddesses to Gotham's low-lives before inducing maternal fear to our little kitten."

"...or to the big tabby. We'll see," Selina added, waving as she and Dinah walked out of the room.

Suddenly Barbara felt a little sorry for Jason. Just a tiny, teensy, weensy bit of sorry.

#Batless!AU #jaytim #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Barbara Gordon #Selina Kyle #Helena Bertinelli #Dinah Drake #Oracle

[kidhawks]

(@ the commission pres is hawks' mom au) please DO explain. i want all ur thoughts

sorry it took me so long to get to this! there’s just so many possibilities that i spent ages trying to make a coherent thought out of it ;;

basic concept: the president had hawks on purpose to make him into a commission agent

i came up with a whole ass AU which is definitely gonna get shit on by canon any second now but...... let me have this. twenty three years ago the commission realised that society needed a new kind of hero, one with a strong quirk who could inspire and protect while also working from the shadows, completely loyal to the hpsc. they decided to make this hero themselves. the president (who wasn’t the president at the time but an agent of the commission, though i’m just gonna call her president for ease) was dedicated to the cause and volunteered her own strong telekinesis quirk for the project. a suitable quirk match was found with a winged mutant who agreed to an arranged marriage (yes, this is meant to parallel endeavor’s marriage)

great news: it worked! they had baby keigo whose winged-telekinesis quirk already seemed promising as an infant (very good sign). bad news: the man she married, takami, an honest guy from a hard background whose family really needed the marriage money, realises he’s not as indifferent to his baby as he thought he’d be. he thought he was okay with his child being trained from birth into a super-soldier, but now that he sees little keigo for real, he can’t let it happen. he tries to appeal to the president, honestly thinking she’ll feel the same way. that’s their baby.

she uh.... doesn’t take kindly to the news. can’t he see it? it’s not that she doesn’t care for him or their child, she just understands about the greater good. the life of one child for society is a small price to pay, even if it’s their child. she’s come too far to allow sentiment to trip her up.

so takami takes keigo and runs.

the commission can’t have him going to the police or making any of this public of course, so before he can get that far, they frame him as a villain so he’ll never be trusted again. he took something precious from them, a vital asset, the future of society itself. he stole it.

they call him Takami the Thief.

they say he’s a murderer too, for good measure.

and so begins his new life as a villain on the run with his infant son. he learns pretty quickly that once you’re branded a criminal, regardless of whether it’s true or not, that’s the only path you can take to survive. the commission agents they send after him are out to kill him and take his child away; he doesn’t have time to play nice. in self defence, he becomes the murderer they say he is. to feed and clothe keigo, he steals and robs, earning the thief moniker for real and wearing it like a crown. he becomes vicious to survive, the raptor of fukuoka, gaining himself a reputation as a feral animal.

but not around keigo. he loves his son more than the sky. he’s doing this all for him. the commission will never have keigo, even if sometimes he thinks his son would have a better life with the commission than he does constantly travelling between trash-ridden buildings to stay alive... but at least with his father keigo will know what it’s like to be loved. with the commission, he’d be nothing but a tool.

but as much as takami tries hard to be a good father, he’s still one man under a lot of pressure. some days he’s out thieving for a big haul that’ll keep them warm for weeks, but it means leaving keigo alone in a square motel room for days. sometimes he can’t get enough food and keigo goes hungry. (sometimes dad drinks and gets scary).

they’ve been lying low for a few months, takami even beginning to hope the commission’s moving on from them, when keigo does something dad told him to never do. he uses his quirk in public. but the crash happened so fast, and the people were going to die, and it was like his body moved on instinct to save them. he flies as fast as he can from the scene. he knows he should tell his dad what happened. they’ll need to move on now, all because of him, and dad will be so mad. keigo likes it here too.

... he says nothing.

when the men in suits show up and swarm their apartment, he knows it’s his fault. it’s his fault when dad’s taken away by endeavor too.

anyway, the commission gets their asset back safe and sound, if not requiring a little training to get rid of some unfortunate habits. hawks needs some help to understand that his dad was a very bad man who starved and neglected him.

they don’t tell him about his real mother; that’d just confuse him. she oversees his training from afar, interacting only when necessary, and as project hawks proves a success, she rises in the ranks until she’s the president by the time he’s fifteen.

his old life is a bad dream he’d rather leave behind. maybe he is just a tool to the commission, but it’s better than the life he would’ve had with his dad, never loved at all.

#there’s some gaps in this i’d fill if i could be bothered to right now but know that i acknowledge them and have thought abt them lmao #i have more thoughts on hawks and the pres’ relationship! in fact that was what this post was meant to be about! #but the exposition took me by the shoulders and said RAMBLE! DO IT! anyway i’ll spill those... another time. prod me idk #is this born out of a desire to see a good single dad in mha. maybe #‘’’good’’’ in a certain sense of the word. better than the president at least #bnha spoilers #hawks posting #child abuse tw #alcohol mention #thief takami #hawks #hpsc #president mom au #ahahahah is that what i should call it #headcanons #angst #neglect tw

[mizuritamanami]

What Goes Unseen

Linked Universe Time Warriors and Legend angst to sort of fluff?

They all have secrets. That much is a given, and sort of hard to miss, given the way Four clams up when asked about his moods, how often Wild has to just... stop and leave and come back to himself when they pass ruins sometimes, or the way Twilight vanishes without a trace to go off doing Hylia only knew what. 

And that wasn't even touching on the walking enigmas Time and Legend could be, so sure. They all have their secrets. Even bubbly Wind and soft spoken Sky. Secrets, secrets everywhere, in plain view or otherwise. 

But something about Wild’s Hyrule has been eating away at Warriors for weeks. Enough that Legend has even noticed his change in mood, his disinterest in most of the things he normally jumped at. 

Enough that the veteran adventurer surprises him by pulling him aside to talk in the guise of a patrol, enough that he wears Warriors down with enough pointless questions that the knight just explodes to ask him what the hell it is he wants.

"Somethings been on your mind for almost a month. You're starting to scare the old man," Legend says bluntly, "I didn't think you could top that "launch tree into bokoblin camp and rain fire from above" heart attack you gave him, but here we are. What gives?" 

For a moment, Warriors just stares at him, because firstly, how dare he insinuate that that plan hadn't worked perfectly outside of the landing, and secondly, since when did you pay that much attention to me?

He huffs. 

"I'm fine."

"Uh. No." 

Worth a try, anyway, Warriors thinks, turning away from the scrutinizing eyes of the young man across from him. 

Legend notes the way his fingers dig into the blue cloth around his neck, and sighs, gesturing to a fallen log. 

"Sit," he says, "tell me whats bothering you. If its got you like this, it warrants a serious talk, without pretense."

"Didn't know you knew such fancy words."

"Don't make me take it back and kick you in the shins."

Warriors has to laugh at that at least a little, so he sits, as instructed, and watches Legend plop unceremoniously into the mix of leaflitter, pine nettles, and flower petals on the forest floor. 

He's still fidgeting with the scarf, and the words come slowly at first, then frantic and almost angry. 

"My mother used to tell me, you know.... that there are stories, in the absences. In what we don't see. And- the more I look around, the more I see you- all of you- in Wild's Hyrule. Goddess, you're all everywhere.... but-.... out of the nine of us, there are only eight call backs. Even Wild's got his own legends already. So I can't help but wonder--..."

"Where you are."

"Where I went! What happened? Did- did I fail, somehow? Did I do something wrong? There's nothing left that says I ever even existed!"

"You existed to us. To Wild, to me, and Time, and Twi and the others. Between all of us, there's no denying that you were here."

Legend realizes belatedly that he's only just barely fended off a fit of sobs from the knight, and counts himself lucky and also gives himself a brownie point or three for the save, just before he recognizes the familiar thwacking and tramping of bronze armor against offending tree branches and leather boots on forest floor somewhere behind him.

He feels the heat come through his voice before he can stop the words from coming out of his mouth. 

"Besides, you didn't completely fuck a timeline, then leave another to Ganon for seven whole years, now did you? Too busy cleaning up other people's messes."

Time froze as his foot settled on the line of the clearing they were in, and the pregnant silence in the moment it took him to school his voice into something normal made Warrior's skin crawl it was so uncomfortable. 

"..... T-There you boys are.... Twilight was--.... he was getting worried. I'll tell him you just .... stopped for a break."

He turned on his heel in a perfect about face that made Warriors knight-side a little jealous, but the rest of him looked to Legend, who was avoiding the direction Time had gone entirely. Realization dawned a moment after.

"......... that was cruel, Legend..... I didn't want you to make me feel better if you were just going to tear him down. Or tell his secrets."

"...... if I'm honest Wars? That last jab was more for my sake than yours."

"What?"

"Whose timeline do you think his failure ruined?"

The sharp intake of breath on Warriors part told Legend he'd picked up on all the appropriate cues. 

".... that's one of my secrets, for spilling his to you, I guess. I don't know if I'm ever gonna be able to forgive him. But hey, since when has Hylia ever cared what we thought? Probably hasn't since Sky...... the point is, you aren't a failure for having to pick up after everyone else, and then not getting thanked for it. You're like that with all of us, too. Constantly doing things hoping someone will at the least notice. I noticed. All of us have. You're a goddamn hero, same as the rest of us, and the only reason your scarf isn't locked up in a chest out here somewhere is probably because you wouldn't part with that thing if it cost you your freaking soul or something. Duh."

Its quiet for a moment, and Warriors takes the time to look down at the blue around his neck a moment before smiling.  

"..... you should apologize to Old Father Time.... but you're right.  I guess its still all in the things you don't see at first glance- I never would have thought you a confidant. You might find out some interesting things about him if you sat like you did with me."

"Id rather eat one of Wild's disgusting potions made out of butterflies and lizalfos."

"Don't jinx yourself, Vet." 

"Shut up."

~~~~~

Legend was going to murder Warriors.

Don't jinx yourself my ass, you set this up, you sorry-- he cut his own thoughts off to hiss under his breath.

Not only was Legend laid up with Time looking out for him as first watch, but he'd had to drain four of those nasty freaking potions. 

"I hate. Lightning. So much."

Normally, that would have earned him a chuckle, or at least a sympathetic hum.

But Time just turned his head towards a darker section of the underbrush that Legend knew for sure he absolutely could not see anything in. 

Was it the being ignored or the uncertainty and hurt in Time's expression that made his stomach twist? 

"I said--" 

"I heard you, Legend. I'm sorry, I didn't think you wanted to speak to me." 

"...... oh..." 

The simple acceptance of Legend's earlier ire pulled all of the heat right out from under him, and he deflated some into his bedroll. 

"........ I am sorry.... I know it doesn't mean much to you, but... I am. Even the sword didn't think I was good enough, and judging by your reaction, it was probably right."

Legend winced. 

"What kind of bullshit cop-out is that? The sword doesn't make you a damn hero, it just points and grabs like a stupid claw game."

"Success, does, then. And that is a baton I clearly didn't pass to you, that I missed out on passing down peace..... it eats at me, some nights when I can't sleep, that I still managed to grasp at straws and hold so tight to so much good that I got to keep it. And I doomed you. I have everything and you were left wanting." 

Legend stared at his back, the way he bent around the biggoron sword leaning into his right shoulder to be drawn if need be by his left hand. 

"Im afraid I'm going to lose it all one day because I failed you so badly."

"I'm not that pitiful."

"Legend-"

"Look, I'm fine--"

"What was her name, Legend?" 

The air left Legends lungs in a sudden, sharp breath. 

"..... That's what I thought..."

"...... you were ten, if that..... yes, it sucks, and time travel is a pain, but you were fucking ten. Hylia sent a ten year old, let his tree mentor die right in front of him, and then continued to traumatize- REPEATEDLY traumatize- a child. Yes, I'm angry. Bitter and jaded, even. But don't you dare get so self important that you start thinking the blame fits on your shoulders. You're an old fucking man, not a god."

"Interesting choice of words...."

"No. No, because you're just gonna start unloading more trauma. If this is about that creepy mask, then no. That doesn't count either!"

"You're awfully concerned about this particular issue.... alright, I'll let it drop--"

"No, you ten year old little brat in a mentally fifty year olds achy jointed body, you're gonna go the fuck to sleep and stop moping. Its my turn to take watch and I'll be damned if I have to sit up watching you get all weepy into your pillow and trying to snitch Wild's slate to call your wife at two in the goddamn morning. Go to bed!"

Time stared at him in surprise, (the ten year old in him in question seriously debating biting the finger wagging in front of his nose) before Legends phrasing hit him. 

"Oh, I’m going to absolutely kill Warriors for telling you about how I was when we met."

"Brat! Bed! Bounce to it, bunny hat kid!"

"You are the last person--"

"Bed!"

"Alright! Alright! Fine! You're lucky I don't fit those masks anymore," Time muttered, picking himself up off the stump to go peel off his armor and crawl into his bedroll. He was silent as Legend pulled himself into the space he'd emptied, then sighed and smiled. 

"..... thank you, Vet." 

"Yeah yeah yeah. Go to sleep before you wake up Twilight. He has ears like a fucking wolfhou---....... oh my goddess you're kidding me."

"Shhh."

"Goddess I hate you sometimes." 

Warriors, apparently woken by the hissing through Legends teeth, chuckled to himself. 

Its all in the things you don't see, I guess, he thinks.

Secrets secrets, everywhere, but.... together, we're all still here for each other. I can live with that. 

"Good night bratty bunny and feral bunny."

Two furious choruses of "HEY!" were the perfect lullaby for Warriors to drop right back off to sleep. 

Yeah...

He could definitely live with that.

#linked universe #linked universe time #linked universe legend #linked universe warriors #warriors and legend have a talk about what's missing from wilds hyrule #with a dash of time angst

[just-some-fiction]

Just You and Me Part 10

My OCD is gonna mess me up. I left out part 10... so here is an old oneshot from the first Just You and Me (it was originally three oneshots), to make up part 10!

They were lounging on the couch – Marcus was spending the weekend by his grandmother. The day didn’t start off ideally. He didn’t come home last night, his phone was off and Mick nor Mike knew where he was. When he walked in this morning at 5:00 am looking a bit worse for wear she silently cleaned him, before ripping into him. Turns out he was dealing with his group of housewives.

“I hate that she works for you,” she hissed.

“Lucia,” Rio pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You let her get away with murder,” she continued, “I mean obviously you would,” she scoffed, “you enjoy the fact that this woman practically pants after you,” there it was, “then she fucking shoots you,” she was going full speed now, down a hole she promised herself she’d never delve down again, “it’s like you can’t get enough of her, you keep going back and what,” throwing her hands up, “I’m just suppose to sit here and wait until you come home, no call or message, you didn’t even tell Mick or Mike where you were,” it seemed like something clicked, “why exactly didn’t your two right hand men know where you were?”

“Lucia,” he stood up from the couch, walking towards her slowly, “can you just listen ma,” she moved away from him.

“Why did you go alone Christopher?” she stood on the other side of the coffee table. She could tell he was losing patience with her, but right now she didn’t care. There was a rough patch in their marriage where they separated, leading to him sleep with Beth twice. It got him three bullets and at the end of it she came back. However, even though they sorted their shit out, Lucia wasn't going to get on board with the idea of Beth working for them. She didn't even know exactly who Beth Boland was until Rio found out Marcus had a friend named Jane whose mother was a PTA mom.

The fact that that lady wanted to worm her way into their son's life out of some form of guilt or retribution rubbed her the wrong way.

“She wanted to talk,” his hands were stuffed into his pockets, his jaw set, and eyebrow raised.

“I’m sure she did,” Lucia crossed her arms and let her eyes wander up and down his body.

“I can’t just let her off the hook Lucia,” he ground out, “she fucking shot me, she has a debt to pay now, you know the rules.”

She was about to pick up the vase of flowers on the table and throw it at his head, “Don’t start with that shit Rio.”

“What you want from me here Lucia?” he walked around the coffee table, grabbing her arms before she could move away, “Huh, what, you want me to tell you that I fucked her, cos I didn’t, she wanted to charm her way into more money and out of her debt, so I put her in her place and then gave her a job to do,” he ground out, before sighing, “I should have called and told you but I had loose ends to tie up,” she refused to look at him, tilting her chin to face him, “hey, you and me remember?”

“From now on I wanna go with,” she looked him square in the eyes, her tone leaving now room for discussion, “I don’t trust her Rio, she fucking put three bullets in you and tried to worm her way into our son’s life out of some weird sense of guilt,” she had no problem with Marcus being friends with Jane, she actually thought it was sweet that he made such a good friend, “and she thinks you’ll probably sleep with her again.”

“Aight,” he nodded, he knew he’d have to meet her halfway, it’s always been the two of them, he’s never kept anything from her and he wasn’t going to start now. So, he told her the truth.

Now he was slowly dozing off, head resting on her chest, while they watched Our Planet on Netflix. It was getting harder for him to stay awake as she stroked his head and bareback, soon he was lights out, his arms resting on either side of her body. Smiling, she bent down and kissed his head before turning her attention back to the screen.  He woke up an hour later in the same position and simply moved down the length of her body, pulling her shorts down as he went. Looking up at her, he saw her eyes still focused on whatever she was watching. Kissing down her one thigh he gently hoisted her legs over his shoulders, feeling her sock covered feet hit is back. Placing a kiss right on her center before parting her folds and circling her slit with his tongue. His hands gripped her thighs while he licked her opening.

“Papi,” she moaned as he ate her out, her hands rubbing his head, before slipping one hand under her shirt, tweaking her nipples.

“So good mama,” he groaned against her, the vibration of his voice adding to the feeling, he slipped two fingers inside of her as he sucked her clit, pulling away, he pressed a kiss into her thigh, “why would I wanna give this up huh,” he curled his fingers, “ain’t nothing compared to this, to you and me Lucia,” he latched onto her clit again.

“Rio,” her toes started to curl, she slowly started to move her hips against his mouth, “yes,” he curled his fingers inside of her, “please,” the next thing she knew she was over the edge, gushing on his face. He licked her clean and continued to lick her even after her orgasm wore off.

“Feeling good ma?” he asked as he sucked a mark into her thigh, “Cos I ain’t done for the day.”

She knew that, he was going to fuck her until she was so overstimulated. Feeling him move up she spread her legs wider to accommodate him. He pushed her top up and pulled it over her head. Pulling him closer she kissed him before trailing her hands down his body, her fingers dancing along the contour of his torso. Biting her lip, she reached between the two of them, soaking her hand in her own wetness, before reaching into his track pants and gave him a squeeze.

“Fuck that was hot ma,” he groaned as she rubbed her wetness over the head of his dick.

He helped her shove his pants off before lining up with her entrance, “Look at me,” his voice was rough and deep, he ran his had between her folds, nudging her clit, “wanna see you as I fill you Lucia,” looking up at him, her face opened up as he slowly pushed into her, “that’s my girl,” he groaned as he sank deeper.

Starting up a steady pace he moved in and out of her, feeling her clench around him. Her hands gripped his forearms for leverage as he fucked into her. Soon she was coming again as he sucked on her neck, her climax shaking through her. Regardless, he kept his pace.

“I wanna get a few more out of you before I fill you up Lucia,” he kissed her, tongue slipping into her mouth. Soon she was coming again and again. By the third orgasm, his fingers were massaging her clit and he was sucking a few marks into her neck.

Grabbing onto his wrist between them, “It’s too much,” looking down at her through hooded eyes he smirked, “baby,” her voice came out in a whine as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“Shh,” he leaned down, resting his forehead against her, “I gotchu baby,” he sped up, feeling his orgasm building up, “gonna fill you up so good.”

“Shit,” she moaned as another orgasm hit her, just as she felt him tense up, before fucking her harder as his hit him, locking her ankles around his waist she pulled him deeper into her, feeling his warmth spread into her, “fill me up baby,” she bit his ear lob as her nails scratched along his back. Somehow he managed to grab her discarded t-shirt and slip it under her.

“Can’t mess up this couch,” he chuckled, “you’d never let me fuck you on it again if I did.”

“Smart man,” she laughed, her expression soft and open as she cupped his face, her eyes closing as he pulled out of her. He gave her a look that she knew all too well. Biting her lip she opened her legs, showing him the mess they made.

Running his hands up and down her legs, he sank two fingers into her, “Still so  tight, even after I fuck a few orgasms out of you mami,” he grinned, “I ain’t done with you yet,” pulling his fingers out of her, he brought them to her lips, watching her suck them clean.

#rio #rio good girls #good girls nbc

[soprano193]

Not a Couple

Chapter 7

Kent

The energy at BPD had shifted.  At least, it had in the homicide department.  As soon as they had accepted that Korsak was retiring, Jane announced that she was moving to DC to pursue a different career.  Maura was taking sabbatical to try and write.  And that left Kent feeling conflicted.  His friends were leaving.  Of course, he could make more, or hang out with other departments within BPD.  And he was taking over for Dr. Isles, which would give him immense experience in the field.  But something about the first group who had gotten to know him all leaving at once had him feeling unsteady.

They had been spending their nights at the Dirty Robber, reminiscing.  The first few days, he stayed away, giving them the space they would need to move on.  But on the fourth day, Jane called him out in the autopsy room, turning her attention from Maura to address him.  “Why haven’t you stopped by even once this week?”  Her hands rested on her belt, and her eyebrows raised, waiting for his response.

“I didn’t want to intrude.”

Jane snorted, her voice getting quieter.  “Well that’s a first.”  Despite her words, her face bore the hint of a smile, made brighter when the Medical Examiner she had interrupted began to giggle.

“Oh, come on, Kent.  You don’t intrude.”  Maura added in, her head tilted as she looked at her colleague.

Jane relaxed her stance, her arms falling to her sides.  “In fact, you’re the only one who hasn’t come.  It feels like someone’s missing.”

“That was never my intention,” Kent replied, shuffling the file in his hands back and forth, “I’ll stop by after work tonight.”

Jane grinned.  “We’ll save you a seat.”  At her words Kent nodded, walking forward to give Dr. Isles the test results she needed, before leaving the room and the two women alone again.

They called it an early night.  The case was solved, no one had called, and everyone had been putting in overtime, so there was no harm in going home early.  Kent went straight to the Dirty Robber from work, hoping to not be late.  Frankie and Nina beat everyone there, grabbing a table towards the back.  They waved him over with a smile, Nina even standing to offer him a hug.  “Glad you finally came!”

Kent embraced Nina before sitting in a free seat next to Frankie.  “Yeah, sorry for the miscommunication.”  At Frankie’s confused look, Kent elaborated.  “I thought it was only family.”

At this Nina laughed.  “I’m here.”

“You’re dating Frankie.”

“Korsak.”  Her partner chimed in.

“Owns the bar.”

“Do you think that means anything on nights like these?”  Frankie paused to take a sip of his beer.  “Besides, you have put up with us for long enough.  You’re family.”  Frankie waved down the waitress and pointed at their new addition, prompting her to come over and take Kent’s drink order.

Kent took a moment to let the Detective’s words sink in.  This, he was finding, was the beauty of BPD.  As an impulsive kid who said things and acted without thinking, fitting in had been hard.  Here, he had found a group that didn’t judge him for his quirks, that wanted him to tag along.  It was nice to know that his inclusion would continue even with all the changes coming up.  Looking around, he took a sip of his whiskey.  “So where are the girls?”

“They’ll be here,” Nina answered, looking toward the door, “Maura makes Jane pack a box first.”

“Sounds about right.”  Kent responded with a chuckle.  “They really do have a peculiar relationship.”

“I’ll say.”  Angela’s voice came from behind him, making him jump.  She pulled out the chair next to Kent, sitting in it and leaning toward Frankie and Nina.  “Did you know that Maura has already mapped the route from Boston to DC?”

“Of course she has.”  Frankie answered, grabbing a roll from the center of the table.  “She’s not gonna be okay with phone calls and Skype.  Too impersonal.”

“I’m not even okay with that.”  Angela answered, scooting her chair to make room for the newly arrived Korsak.  “But I know this is a good move for Jane, and I want her to be happy.”

“Yes, but you don’t love her.”  Kent said it before thinking, as per usual, and every face at the table looked at him with eyebrows furrowed.  “I mean, of course you love her, you’re her Mother.  Sorry.  I just mean, you don’t love Jane like Maura does.”  Instead of the shock he was expecting, everyone at the table nodded in agreement.  It brought him comfort to realize that the little glances he’d noticed, their closeness, their body language, was not imagined by him.

Before Kent could elaborate, the front door opened and Maura walked in.  She greeted them all with a smile, her eyes showing a hint of sadness, and she took a seat next to Frankie.  She addressed her colleague first, placing her purse on the floor by her feet.  “Kent!  I’m glad you finally came!”

“Of course.  Again, sorry for the misunderstanding.”  Moments later, Jane entered, the last to arrive, and took the last seat between Korsak and Maura.  “And since I’ve missed a few meetings, the first round is on me.”

“I knew we invited you for a reason!”  Jane grinned and waved down the waitress, who came right over with her regular beer.  “Sorry it took us so long today.  Maura was helping me downsize my box of shoes.”

“Well, it doesn’t make sense to keep shoes without matches.”  The Doctor was defensive, but had a hint of a giggle in her voice.

“Why do you have so many mismatched shoes, Janie?”  Angela's voice had a tone only a mother could achieve, which made Kent smile into his drink.

"I think a lot of them are left over from when I was on the drug unit?"

It was his pragmatic boss who asked the question on Kent's mind.  "What was it about the drug unit that made you lose so many shoes?"

"Yeah, did you lose them chasing down suspects?"  Angela asked, still concerned about the mismatched shoes.

“No.  I never wanted  to wear my nice heels, you know, just in case.  So I had a lot of cheap ones.”  She grimaced.  “Very uncomfortable.  I shopped around for some that would fit better.  So I ended up with a ton of inexpensive heels.  I haven’t gone through them in ages.  I honestly think I lost most of them in the fire.”

“Well, now you get to leave town with a much lighter load.”  The honey-haired woman tipped her head.  “You’re welcome.”  This elicited a snort from Jane, her eyes rolling slightly as she took a sip of her beer.

Kent, being one of the newcomers to the group, hadn’t heard of Jane’s time in the drug unit.  And he still wasn’t sure how the drug unit led to more shoes.  “Wait, why did you need so many heels for the drug unit, but get to wear your trademark boots in homicide?”

“I had to do buy busts, and had to dress the part.  That’s how Maura and I met.”

The Doctor’s hazel eyes grew wide and her mouth fell.  “Don’t tell him that story.”

“What story?”  Kent asked, his interest piqued.

The answer came from Angela.  “Maura thought Jane was a hooker.”

As Maura sputtered to find her words, Kent and Nina watched with amusement, clearly the only ones out of the loop.  The stunned Doctor turned to her friend, her voice high-pitched and playful.  “I can’t believe you told your Mother!”

“Well of course I did!”  Jane shouted, glancing in Angela’s direction.  “I can’t lie to my Mother!  What kind of person do you think I am?”  This caused Frankie and Maura to laugh, with Angela watching them, a knowing look on her face.  After a few moments, she refocused her attention on Kent.  “So the first time we met was at Division One, and Maura thought I was really a hooker.  But about two months later I was promoted to homicide.  My first day, Maura came upstairs and said something to Korsak about meeting the new Detective.  She walked in, saw me at the desk, and immediately turned around and headed for the elevator.”

Maura laughed, her face turning red.  “I was mortified!”

Jane continued, “Two weeks later we caught our first big case.  On the scene she barely talked to me.  She addressed Korsak more often than not.  And she wouldn’t look me in the eye.  I tried not to let it bother me, but let’s be honest, it bothered me.  So Korsak and I started working this case the best way we could.  Figuring out known associates, tracking down threats, mapping her movements, that sort of thing.  And at some point he tells me to go see if Maura had found anything.”

Korsak leaned forward, excited to add his own part to the story.  “Jane was like, ‘don’t send me down to her!  She thinks I’m a prostitute, she won’t even look at me!’”  His voice was a higher pitch as he mocked his former partner, making Frankie laugh and Jane glare.

“Are we done with your spot on impersonation?”  She asked before continuing, waiting for the laughter of her colleagues to die down.  “So, I went down to autopsy, walked in, and said something about being sent by Korsak to get information.  Maura started rattling off time of death, potential murder weapons, and possible defensive wounds.  Very clinical, with a lot of words I didn’t understand.  In the middle of this, she stops, looks at me, and said, ‘you made a convincing prostitute.’”

“No way!”  The  interruption came from Nina, whose mouth was wide open as her eyes flicked between the two women.

Kent addressed his boss.  “You didn’t.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

Jane laughed, continuing.  “See, now that I know you, I get that you didn’t mean it like that.  But at the time, I was wondering who died and made you Queen Bitch.  I managed to hold my tongue, and forced out an, ‘excuse me?’”  She refocused her attention on Kent.  “So now Maura started sputtering, apologizing, and she started to get splotchy, and I knew something was wrong.  So I offered to start over.”

Maura joined in with a laugh, her face returning to it’s normal color.  “I made her leave the autopsy room, and told her to give me a little bit.”

Jane nodded.  “I must have stood outside for five minutes or so.  When I came back in, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen.  Maura was standing at her computer, looking at a chart.  So I walked over, held out a hand, and introduced myself.”

“And just like that, you forgot her assertion from earlier?”  The Scotsman watched them as he asked, watching as they shared a look.  Jane resolved, Maura curious.  He wondered how much they talked about this meeting.

“Honestly, it still stung.  But I think it was what she said afterward that helped me understand what she was trying to say.”

“I told her that I had looked her up.  That her conviction rate was impressive, and that she must have been convincing undercover.”  Maura took ownership of the narrative, looking at her friend, watching Jane’s kind smile as she remembered.  “I think we began mentoring each other first.  Jane learned a lot about science from me.  I learned how to talk to people from her.  The friendship blossomed from there.”  They both shared a soft smile, a tad bit sad, before turning back to their companions.

Kent made sure to give them a moment before speaking.  “Well, that is the most interesting origin story I’ve ever heard.  You two should have a comic book.”

“Oh!  I have one of those!”  Jane shouted to the laughs of her colleagues.  This led to the reminiscing Kent was expecting, some of their favorite cases.  Angela went back to working after listening to them talk about the clown case.  Korsak left after Jane and Maura talked about cutting open Maura’s leg, citing Kiki waiting for him at home.  Frankie and Nina left after recounting the case at the Pilgrims stadium.  Which soon left only the two women, and Kent at that little table.  He hadn’t realized the predicament that would put him in until it was too late.

“Kent.”  His boss looked at him, her face serious.  “With only a couple weeks left, maybe you want to finish some unfinished business?”  Her eyes darted to the woman next to her, then back to him.

Jane rolled her eyes.  “Maur, no.”

“Well, I’m trying to figure out why he expressed interest in you, then never acted on it!”

"I'm not interested in Jane."  The reply was more forceful than he intended, and the Detective faked a hurt expression.  "No offense."

Maura looked between the two of them, puzzled.  "Well then, why did you ask me if you could date someone from the police department?"

It hit him in an instant what she was referring to, and now he had to scramble to figure out what to say.  "Not because I wanted to date Jane."

"Well then, to whom were you referring?"

His reluctance to speak egged the Detective on, who leaned forward with interest.  "Yeah, whom?"

"We can keep a secret."

"I'm leaving soon, no one in DC is gonna care.  Just tell us who you like!”

The two women egged him on like schoolgirls and drowned out his train of thought.  He couldn't tell them that he had asked to figure out their relationship.  And he couldn't think of a plausible interest other than the one he'd suppressed for over a year.  As their chorus of voices grew louder he fought to hear his own consciousness, the voices inside telling him to lie.  The problem was, the two women were too loud to let him figure out the name of any other female Detectives.  So for the first time, he let his secret slip.  “Frankie.  I wanted to ask out Frankie.”

Their voices stopped abruptly.  Maura’s mouth hung open in shock, her eyes wide as she searched his face.  Jane however, sat straight as a board, her mouth pursed shut as she glanced over at her friend.  Kent began counting the seconds, waiting for them to speak.

It was Jane who broke first.  The Detective flashed him a soft smile, dropping her shoulders and leaning forward.  "Trust me, after living with my brother for way too long, you dodged a bullet."  At her response, he let out the breath he'd been holding, allowing himself to laugh with the two women.  "I mean, he had all these rules, took super long showers, and still never told me where his secret drawer is!"

"He didn't tell me either.  And I'm an excellent secret keeper."  The ME punctuated her sentence with a sip of her wine, a knowing glance shot toward her best friend.

"Speaking of that," Kent started, leaning forward, "you can keep that one, right?"

She answered in the affirmative. "My lips are sealed."

"Nothing against him, I just don't want to make things weird.  He's a good friend."  The two women nodded, and he noticed the way Maura pursed her lips together, like she was holding something back.  "Besides, I have the utmost respect for Nina, and their relationship."

Jane nodded, her fingers running along the bottom of her beer bottle.  "I get it.  Your secret is safe with us."  She finished the last sip, and tapped the table twice with her free hand.  "As much as I would love to stay and chat, I really should pack some more things.  And throw out some more shoes."  She pushed the empty bottle, turning her attention first to Kent.  "I hope you'll join us again tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't miss it."

"Good."  She turned to Maura.  "And I'll see you bright and early."

Maura nodded.  "Yes, I'll get coffee and be over around eight.  Drive safe, Jane."  

Kent definitely noticed the Detective squeeze Maura's shoulder as she left, her fingers waiting as long as possible to let go.  The soft smile reserved almost exclusively for Maura, with just a hint of sadness in her dark eyes.  He observed Maura watch the door for several seconds after her friend left, seeming far away although she sat only inches from him.  And his question was out before he could stop it.  "Have you told her you love her?"

Maura took in this question like she took in new data, her eyebrows pulled together as she gazed just past him, trying to put the info in line with the narrative in her brain.  "I tell Jane that I love her all the time.  It's perfectly natural to be affectionate with your friends."

"No, I mean," he paused, wondering for a moment if he should end the conversation before it was too late, "have you told Jane that you are in love with her?"

Again, she took in his words, trying to make them make sense.  For a split second, Kent saw acceptance, her jaw set, her eyes widened.  But soon that look became anger, with glaring eyes and a hard swallow.  “I am not in love with Jane.”

“Well then, you’ve got me fooled.  And I assume you’ve fooled yourself.”

Her eyes widened at his hesitancy to back down.  “Well, you know what they say about those who assume.”  She finished her glass of wine in one sip, pushing her chair back simultaneously.  “I don’t think it’s fair of you to assume how I feel, Dr. Drake.  And I don’t need to sit here and listen to it.  See you in the office.”  With that, she turned and stormed out of the bar.

It didn’t take long for Angela to come over, using his tab as an excuse to pry.  “What happened?”

“I pointed out that she loves Jane.”

Angela started laughing, the high-pitched sound helping Kent feel calm, despite his realization that work would be tough the next day.  “I always wondered who would break it to them first.”  She patted him on the back before taking his card.  “You’ll be alright.”

________________________________________________________________

The next day, Kent went out of his way to avoid Dr. Isles.  If she entered the room he was in, he’d leave through the opposite door.  If he couldn’t leave, he would study results on his computer, so he looked busy.  He spent more time in the bathroom in one day than he had for the entire week.  Towards the end of the day, DNA results came in.  Matter found under the fingernails of a John Doe.  He could have just emailed them to her, kept his contact at a minimum.  But a small part of him wanted to see how much trouble he was actually in.  So this he carried into her office, to deliver in person.

Dr. Isles was sitting at her desk, reading something on her computer.  He knocked, making her look up, and waved the file in the air as he entered.  “DNA results from under the victim’s fingernails.”

“Thank you.”  She held out a hand for the file, took a moment to look it over, and reached for her phone.  “I’ll forward this to Jane.”  Her response was curt, but she didn’t seem angry.  Thinking he had overreacted, Kent nodded and started to leave.  “Wait.”  Her voice was more forceful, and made him turn around.  Dr. Isles’ face was set, very little emotion showing as she gestured for a chair.  “Please sit.”  Kent did as she asked, his hands folded in his lap, and awaited whatever she was going to tell him.

Dr. Isles took a moment, looking past him as she gathered her thoughts.  “Well first of all, I owe you an apology.  I think I implied that you were an ass.”

As she spoke, her shoulders fell, making her appear less harsh, and making Kent relax in turn.  “You did.  But you were right, I shouldn’t assume.”

"You shouldn't.  We don't leap to conclusions in our line of work.  We wait for the science to determine the facts, and draw our conclusions from there."

"Absolutely," Kent nodded, "I hear you loud and clear."

Dr. Isles gave him a decisive nod as she sat back in her seat.  "Well, I was up all night analyzing the data, and it appears that you were right.  I'm in love with Jane."

Kent had to suppress a giggle at her words, somewhat surprised it took her this long to figure it out.  As he did he noticed the slump of her shoulders and the hint of bags under her eyes, remnants of her sleepless night.  "Can I ask you what the deciding data points were?"

"Well, she's very symmetrical, so aesthetically pleasing.  I've always known she's attractive."  It was the most logical place to start, and her eyes drifted as she figured out what to say.  "She has this incredible way of understanding me that I have always admired.  Very few have stuck around to help me in social situations I don't understand.  She's selfless and brave, in ways I wish I could be.  She takes care of me."  Dr. Isles' face broke into a wide grin.  "Her smile is infectious.  She is infectious.  I just want to spend as much time as I can with her.  Everything makes sense with her.  She's the only one who can touch me when I'm very upset, and she can calm me down.  And then I started really thinking."  She paused, her head coming down as she looked at Kent and addressed him for the first time since she started talking about Jane.  "I'm sad Korsak is retiring.  The squad room will be different.  Our lives may drift apart.  And I'm okay with that.  It's natural.  But imagining life here without Jane," a pause, her fists curling on top of the desk, "it puts knots in my stomach.  It feels like I'm losing a limb, and things won't be the same.  Does that make sense?"

Kent nodded, understanding exactly what she was saying.  "Your heart is breaking.  It makes perfect sense."  Kent watched her nod and swallow, seemingly relieved that what she was feeling made sense.  "So what do you plan to do about it?"

"What can I do?”  Her hands turned upward and her voice cracked.  “This opportunity is wonderful for her.  It’s perfect for her family, it gets her out of harm’s way, and she earned it.  If I tell her, and she backs down, does that make me selfish?  Or what if I tell her, and it ruins everything?  And I lose this friendship, and the family that I’ve been graciously allowed to join?  It’s a terrible thought to lose Jane, but I can’t also lose Angela, Frankie, Tommy, and TJ.”  Her thumb kept tapping on her fingers, counting people she cared about but didn’t name out loud.  People connected to her through Jane.  “So I’m doing nothing.  I’m pretending I never realized I love her.  I’ll support her as she moves, call her daily, and hope that she doesn’t forget about me as she builds a new life.”

Kent could hear the anguish in his boss’ voice, the finality of her decision weighing him down.  This wasn’t what he intended when he asked his question the previous night.  “She won’t forget you.”  It was the best he could offer to comfort her.  “I suspect she feels the same.”

Dr. Isles let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head.  “No, Jane has only ever been interested in men.  Even now, she’s been chatting with some agent out in DC.”

“I’m sorry, Maura.”

“Don’t be.”  She laughed, flashing him a knowing look.  “This is why we shouldn’t fall for straight people.”

Kent laughed along with her.  “We never learn.”  Kent gave his boss time to relax, telling her jokes and stories to cheer her up.  They soon switched gears, discussing everything they had learned about the case, Kent leaving her office with new orders for tests to run and a promise he would see her that night at the bar.  He did join them again.  Armed with new information, he watched them interact.  Maura’s slight hesitation to touch Jane, like she was second guessing her every move.  Jane, oblivious to the fact that Maura was studying her, the curves of her face, her expressions as she talked.  And the deepening heartache written all over Maura’s face.

What had he done?

#rizzoli and isles #rizzles #rizzles fanfic #my fic

[atopearth]

Higurashi When They Cry Part 8 - Ch 8 Matsuribayashi-hen

So, the reason Takano is obsessed with the Hinamizawa disease is because she wants to prove her grandpa's theory that there are parasites in our brains affecting our emotions and thoughts, and the different parasites in different areas etc are what causes cultural differences and clashes in thoughts across the world? And it's these parasites that "control" humans. It's saddening to think about the idea of orphanages that operated as a way to claim money "for the children" rather than actually taking care of the children. Like, I can understand being overworked and unappreciated considering the amount of war orphans and others like that, but the thought that people could take advantage of these children to get money and just treat them like prisoners to be beaten or punished when they don't act the way they want them to is just terrible... I guess the fact that the Takano back then who ran away from the orphanage and even bit off the finger of her pursuer to escape shows how bad the place was and how desperate she was to leave. It probably was literally a do or die situation to her.

It's kinda interesting to think that the reason why Takano's grandfather's research was ignored wasn't because it was useless, but because it might have actually been credible in a sense. Due to a war that had erupted because of the mystery behind whether a soldier from Hinamizawa shot the other side or not, this caused a neutral pact to fall through and make the two parties go to war. In the end, since Japan insisted that they weren't at fault and China insisted the same, if Takano's grandfather's research were to come to light, then the fault could be insinuated to be from the Hinamizawa soldier and therefore Japan's fault, and that's why the research was unsupported. I guess it's nice for Takano that her research is getting sponsored properly, by the SDF even since they would probably want to use it as a weapon if the research comes to fruition properly. On the other hand, child Takano got caught huh? Even though Dr Takano saved her later, I'm sure her trauma is something difficult to come to terms with. Personal note, I have to admit, I don't really care for Takano though haha, but I understand why her story is necessary to unfold now. It's saddening to watch how excited Dr Takano was over presenting his research to potential sponsors and then having it all shattered with their cruel allegations that it's all his own delusion and that he was so consumed with the research that he's just making it seem as if it's credible because he wants it to be and not because there's enough evidence or whatever. It's terrible to hear people say something like that for something you sacrificed your whole life to research..and imagine taking those doubts to the grave, like maybe he was delusional blah blah, that's crappy... Psychosurgery is something I never really thought about though! The idea of severing certain connections between the frontal lobe and the rest of the brain sounds really interesting yet dangerous, I can see why it was ethically challenged later on and even caused Dr Irie to kinda be cast aside from the industry considering his persistence on it when they're trying to swerve away from it. At least he sticks to his beliefs I guess haha.

The connecting fragments thing is rather interesting, I like getting more information on what exactly happened behind the scenes with all the discussions they had and everything. It's quite sad and sweet to see how Rika's conviction towards saving Satoko allowed her to accept the idea of people researching her brain or whatever since she's the "parasite leader". It's also saddening to see Hanyuu heartbroken over everyone fighting because of the dam project. Seeing Tomitake smitten with Takano is rather saddening too. Anyway, for context, connecting the fragments is to make way to the ultimate "ending" where they can win against Takano (since Takano has accumulated a lot of support from organisations such as the SDF and has "won" in every world before this because of it + her indomitable will to spread her grandfather's research making way for it to be "fate" I guess). Although it should have been expected that Ooishi has a particular reason to be so adamant about finding out the mystery and murders in Hinamizawa, I don't know why but I actually found his reason to be rather contrived when it was revealed that the dismembered dam construction head guy was someone he sort of respected as a second father after he lost his real one. I guess it's kinda because at this point, I've forgotten how I felt about Ooishi haha, and also because it's just a short segment I guess so it's hard to feel much for it. 

As someone whose not a big fan of Satoko (blasphemy, I know right haha), I definitely relate to Satoshi's situation much more and I always wanted more insight into his feelings. It's actually really sad to think about his situation. He loves Satoko, but he's also super tired, he'll always try to protect her whether it be from his stepfathers or his aunt and uncle, but regardless of whose fault it is, anyone will get tired of having to do this all the time. It was heartbreaking to hear that he hated himself for wanting Satoko to stay at the clinic longer just so he could have some peace away from his aunt and Satoko arguing all the time. As someone who also hates the sounds of arguing, I can understand a little bit of that and just how stressful it can be. I...wonder how Satoshi would react if he knew Satoko pushed her parents off the cliff on that trip. Like yeah, she was affected by the Hinamizawa Syndrome and that caused her to kinda go crazy from paranoia, but Satoshi was sane, he knew his parents really wanted to make amends, even the stepfather took courses to try and fix their relationship and Satoshi saw that, so I feel like if Satoshi found that out, he would break. Anyway, I'm not sure how I feel like the story is painting the Hinamizawa Syndrome. On one hand, I understand that yes, if it's caused by a medical condition exacerbating emotions that they can't control, it can't be helped that so many worlds turned out the way it did, but at the same time, it feels like a lot of it tries to apportion all the blame to the Hinamizawa Syndrome as if it never existed, then everything would be fine? Maybe I'm interpreting it wrong, but it makes me feel like that which I don't agree with, since I feel that even if things wouldn't have turned out so drastic with the clawing of the necks etc, I still think that with the way a lot of characters were treated and how they felt, things were inevitable whether the syndrome was there or not.

It's sweet to know that Tomitake was sincere with Takano and really tried his best to be her ally, it's just that even though he knew her, he couldn't really help her, and I guess that's something a lot of us struggle with. No matter how well we can know the people close to us, it's not necessarily true that we can "heal" them. Of course we still try, but as it was with Satoko, if they don't help themselves, then outside help can never truly help them. On the other hand, it's interesting that Keiichi's father was able to see Hanyuu and Rika play together when he first visited Hinamizawa hoping to change his life and environment for Keiichi. He's right though, as we grow older, I feel like we do slowly lose our "innocence" as we know more things and "sin", so when we look at children, we always think back and look fondly to that and to them as representative of what we lost and what we hope we still had. I guess it's kinda amusing to say that Takano had a strong will when she nearly gave up and drank her sorrows away after Koizumi (main backer who was friends with her grandpa) died and she couldn't convince the new people to believe in her research until some people under Koizumi's faction came along to "help" her. In a sense, Takano is just trying her best to make sure to tell everyone and her grandfather that he didn't waste away his whole life on useless research, but at the same time it's unsettling to watch her be so consumed by it. Anyway, as I said, it's amusing that Takano is considered to have a strong will, when in a sense I feel like Rika being able to live through all those worlds again and again should be "stronger" but at the same time more weary I assume haha. Regardless, I guess what Rika lacked was concrete support, since even if Takano is being used, she still has support, whereas Rika was always by herself with Hanyuu who doesn't really encourage her since she doesn't believe that fate will change and I guess that didn't help Rika haha.

Akasaka becoming super capable after his wife's death is interesting, like will he be able to reach the same heights in martial prowess if his wife doesn't end up dying? On the other hand, Hanyuu can transfer in as a normal kid?! Cuteee. It was so cute how Hanyuu tried so hard to tell them that she wanted to join their club, and I loved how Rika refused to say it for her, and told Hanyuu that if she wanted it, she had to say it herself. Believing in something is like a gamble huh? When you think about it like that, I guess in a sense, it is. Our beliefs are beliefs because it's not a fact or the "truth" after all, it's basically what we have chosen to think "exists" after we thought about it. The sad thing though is that what we believe in isn't always the "right" thing, but I guess that's fine since we chose to believe in it? Not gonna lie, when they were talking about how they "sacrificed" Hanyuu and her mother(?) back in the day to like cleanse their sins, all I could think about was Jesus, so now I'm just thinking about Rika's ancestor being Jesus and now she's met her in the flesh lol.

Anyway, I love how Hanyuu and Rika pitched their whole situation to Keiichi and them like it's a manga. I think it was really cool to see the whole group bounce ideas off each other with Rika piping in trying to get them to figure out what she couldn't about the whole situation. I really liked it since I feel like the biggest reason Rika is unable to find a way out of this a lot of the time is because she's the one experiencing it, and she's experienced it many times, so it's difficult for her to think outside the box when she feels like she's done that. So I think it's great to see her give the group details to try and see from their perspective what the reason could be for Takano to destroy Hinamizawa, and well as expected, she's most likely being used by the higher ups as she gets revenge by killing Rika and the village. It also feels so great to see Ooishi, Akasaka, Tomitake and Irie get to talk everything out and try to solve things, everything just feels like dang, we've really come such a long way for the final world! Btw lmao at Hanyuu teasing Rika about not trusting her friends enough, it's time for Hanyuu's revenge on Rika!! Or not, lmao at Rika making spicy food (Hanyuu hates it lol) and dumping the cream puffs lolll. On the other hand, omg I love the group's strategic meeting, Hanyuu fits in so well hahaha. I love the 48 hour strategy though, I didn't get it (just like Rena and Rika) initially, but once they explained it, I was like whoa, that is actually a great idea to blow away the presumption that everyone in the village goes crazy in 48 hours! If Rika's corpse appears and is proven that she had been dead for more than 48 hours and yet no one had gone crazy in that time, then their hypothesis about the queen carrier causing them to go crazy would be wrong and everything could sail much smoother, it's nice!

I guess it's really interesting how in the end, many people in Hinamizawa actually do understand and think that the dam construction war is over now and that things should start facing forward and moving properly again; whether this be Oryou or Mion and Shion's mother Akane, they're all tired of being stuck in the past and want to move beyond that, so it's nice to see that Akane and Shion actually visited the dam construction leader guy's grave every year (just like Ooishi) as a way to remind themselves but also tell him that the past is the past and they hope he rests in peace. I quite like Akane and Ooishi, I found it hilarious when Ohtaka was trying to get info about whether Rika was really dead and pretended he knew Sonozaki Saburou (higher up representative) right when he and Akane came in to the police station lol. On the other hand, I want to feel sorry for Takano, but whenever I think about how she was willing to sacrifice Tomitake in every world for her revenge, I don't really pity her lol. Honestly, it was only a matter of time until Tomitake would get captured since everyone knows how important he is, but I was so worried for Irie. No one needs to worry about Akasaka because he's obviously too strong haha. I didn't expect Shion to pick Irie up when he was injured, I was so relieved! But I will be so sad if she and Kasai die. It's nice to know Shion's true feelings and that even though Mion feels bad that she took Shion's place as the older sister, Shion also felt bad for taking Mion's place as the younger sister. Despite everything, they both know how hard it is to be in either place because of the burdens they have. Honestly, I nearly cried when Akasaka came to save the day, he really is Rika's hero, the one who will finally save her after regretting leaving her to die in so many worlds, it was so heartwarming to see. He's ridiculously OP but I guess that's what happens when you train for so long haha.

Satoshi being alive and in the basement if the clinic undergoing treatment is nice for Irie, Satoko and Shion. I personally think it fits the story better if he's dead, but if we want a true happy ending, then he needs to be there so that Satoko can truly apologise to him, Shion can properly tell him how much she cares and Irie can feel less guilt over having to kill or use terminal patients. The mountain fight between the kids club and the Mountain Dogs was pretty fun but expected, I still think in terms of excitement it pales in comparison to their usual games haha, but Mion as commander is always such a highlight, I love seeing how confident she is. It was nice to have the group pitted against Takano as a last battle kinda thing, but I do admit that when Takano was the "main loser" out of all this, I was like, can this really be a happy ending if they characterised her so much but gave only her a bad ending? So yeah even though Tomitake is too good for her, I was happy that he came back to save her, since he's just that kind of person. Honestly, whether Takano has the Hinamizawa Syndrome is something to think about since scratching herself could be stress too imo, but I guess it doesn't matter anymore. Anyway, I honestly wanted Takano to be a much more formidable opponent for them, but I guess not lol. What I really enjoyed though was Rika calling Akasaka "papa" at the festival and his wife was about to kill him over it🤣 and I'm glad that Hanyuu got to stay and play with them since she's part of the group after all. The possibilities of forever where Ryukishi07 talks about how we as readers could create our own abundance of fragments and stories etc was interesting I guess haha, I do wonder though, how would Takano's life have been if she went with her parents to the mall and they didn't end up dying? Wouldn't that be nice? But I wonder what would have happened with the Hinamizawa Syndrome like that.

Overall, the last chapter was as I expected? Honestly, I took a long time to read it because I knew it wouldn’t be my favourite or as enjoyable as the others so it was difficult to “end” my journey with Higurashi but yeah I still liked it regardless I guess haha. Anyway, yeah, I knew it wouldn't be as fun and interesting to me as the other chapters, especially since Keiichi and the others aren't as prominent here due to the adults helping out to obtaining the good ending with all of them. But I did enjoy Akasaka and everyone working their hardest in their own way to save the people important to them. I kinda thought Ooishi would have a better role but I guess it's okay that he and Akane are pretty funny together lol. However, I do think that Okonogi of the Mountain Dogs was more lacklustre(?) than I thought? I think he could have been pretty cool, but I guess they spent more time humanising Takano haha. The battles weren't as exciting as Keiichi's club battles but I guess that's because Keiichi is a funny and cool guy haha. And I think I just didn't care for all the god stuff with Hanyuu and everything, so I think it would have been better for me if everything was solved by everyone uniting together without the need of supernatural stuff but that's just me. I'm just glad that we got to see the fruits of all their efforts and see everyone believe in the miracle that they could win. It was really satisfying to see everything come into place.

Overall review

Higurashi is a solid VN. Honestly, when I first read Onikakushi, I wasn't sure if I would like it or not even though I was intrigued, but it was crazy how much I loved Watanagashi and the others. The way they set out the mystery, how they had the staff room talks to discuss with you the possibilities and everything, it was just so much fun. I loved the endless possibilities of each different world and how it showed really well how living in your own bubble, not trusting your friends and not communicating with others could make things go so wrong. Of course a lot of it was attributed to the Hinamizawa Syndrome, but at the same time there were a lot of real problems that each character had to go through in order to grow, and I think I personally loved Rena's arc the most. I think her emotions were portrayed so well, and I loved how everyone in the group united with her in Meakashi. I loved how the theme of friendship felt so real, and I think going through the various chapters really helped to build that. Honestly, the slice of life parts used to be so long and annoying for me in the first two chapters, but it eventually became the highlight for me, and it was better than the mystery itself haha. Overall, I think I would give the whole story (all the chapters) an 8.5/10 and would definitely recommend it over the anime (the new one at least haha, I haven’t watched the old one), I think what makes Higurashi so good is how detailed it goes into a lot of the feelings and actions of our main characters and I feel like a lot of that is lost in the anime. Anyway people say the PS3 sprites and voice patches are needed to enjoy this, but I played it like the original sound novel it was and I still loved it. I think it's actually kinda crazy how music and character sprites can enhance the experience of reading a novel so much haha. So yeah, I don't doubt that maybe the patch could make it even better (I guess I can try it in the future haha, since I do think I would like to read it again) but I think it's fine either way. I also bought it in Japanese for the switch so maybe I'll read it in Japanese one day!😆

#higurashi #higurashi when they cry

[holyfuckthisfishcandrive]

Shots and Guilt

First, Previous(Chap. 23), Ao3

Word count: 3610

Warnings: Gun, Blood and Injury, (kinda) Torture, Knives, Bloodlust, Smoking, Underage Drinking, Drinking and Driving, Gore, Skipping a Meal, Alcohol (even more of it), Guilt, Choking, Mention of Past Murder, Panic Attack, Self Harm

This really isn't a nice chapter. If anyone needs it I can make a summary of it. Just leave a comment or send me an ask if that's the case. Stay safe.

Virgil listened to the sound of the rain pattering against the car and the radio woman report what had happened in Aunt Lian's block earlier this night.

Glitch monsters.

He dug around the glove compartment until he found Uncle Remy's cigarettes, hidden under the ammunition, lit one and took a drag. He watched the smoke curl and opened the window just by an inch to release it into the night.

Destroyed street lights.

He glanced at the Seven11 Remy had disappeared in about half an hour ago and lit his lighter again, watching the tiny flame dance in the stale light of the car lamp.

Messed up electronics.

A shadowy figure stood next to his window and Virgil glanced over at them. They were holding a knife. Good for them.

"Fuck off," Virgil mumbled tiredly and took another drag.

"Open the car door if you know what's good for you, kid," the guy demanded.

Virgil couldn't help but chuckle at that. He took his feet off the headboard and sat up slowly.

"If I know what's good for myself? If you know what's good for yourself you're going to fucking piss off now!"

"Kid-!" he thrust the knife at the window gap and Virgil kicked open the door hitting them square on the chest. They stumbled back and growled. "I'm going to fucking kill you, brat!"

Vigil stepped out of the car, taking the butterfly knife and the colt from the glove compartment with him.

"No, you're not," he stepped on his cigarette to put it out.

The robber was big. About twice as tall and five times as wide as Virgil, all muscles and heavy bones.

But at the sight of the gun, he froze. An uneasy smile took the place of the angry grimace.

They were in a lonely and dark parking lot. Nobody would look out of the window if they heard a gunshot or scream.

"Kid, don't do anything you're gonna regret. I'm part of the Trulow family. They're gonna hunt you down if you shoot me. No ones gonna find you're body! I bet yer mother's gonna get worried sick if her kid doesn't come home!"

Again Virgil laughed humourlessly.

The rain was cold on his skin and his hair stuck to his face and neck but he couldn't care less. There was that feeling in his chest again that he knew Papa knew well, even if he never wanted to talk about it, the feeling he couldn't imagine living without even after being told a thousand times that it wasn't normal, that he wasn't supposed to talk about with people outside of the family. That intoxicating feeling - better than any liquor, pills or joint but no less dangerous. "It's what makes our kind what we are," Uncle Emile had once said. The man across from him knew it too. Virgil could tell. Otherwise, he wouldn't flinch back. Wouldn't be able to see it in Virgil's smile and his every movement like a bloody red threat.

The bloodlust felt like a promise in his lungs.

"Jokes on you," he slowly walked towards the man. "My mothers dead. And if you're really a Trulow, how come I've never seen you on the Christmas card? I'm sure I'd remember a face as ugly as yours."

"What-?" the man stumbled backwards.

"If you want to make it in this city you really ought to learn who to threaten and who's out of your league. You're just another sewer rat. I'm like a motherfucking prince to you."

The man fell back on his ass, crawling backwards.

"Run along now, rat. Wouldn't want mommy to worry, would we?"

The man scrambled to his feet and turned to run.

Virgil raised the gun, aimed and fired.

A scream cut through the air as the man crashed into the concrete.

He sobbed and whimpered, staring at the blood sprayed over the ground as if he couldn't believe it was his. As if the realisation that there was now a hole where his foot connected to his leg hadn't quite made its way into his thick head yet.

"Sorry," Virgil said as he got closer and knelt down next to him. "Couldn't resist. You better not tell my Pa about this."

He dug his hand into the wound until his fingers found the bullet, ignoring the pained screams.

"He hates when I use guns. Which I honestly don't get. I mean, he uses them all the time! Bloody double standards," he inspected the bloody bullet in his hand.

"Who- Who the fuck are you?" the man sobbed.

Virgil grinned. "Have you ever heard those rumours? About Professor Logic having a child?"

The man's eyes widened in terror.

Virgil heard the doors of the Seven11 slide open and stood up.

Remy raised an eyebrow as he got closer.

"Jesus, can't I leave you alone for five minutes?" he asked.

"That was half an hour. And he started it. He wanted to rob the car or something. I only used one bullet if that's what you're worried about," Virgil tossed the gun over to him and Remy caught it in his free hand.

"Whatever. Just get in the car, hon. I got slushies and alcohol. We can stop at Crispy Creme if you want to."

"Sure," Virgil picked up the knife the would-be robber had dropped and jogged back to the car. "I hope they have warm doughnuts."

"They better. Oh, and there should be some baby wipes in the glove compartment. I'm not letting you eat with that guy's blood on your hands. Who knows what's been in that-? Wait, did you steal one of my cigs?"

"...No," Virgil claimed and was suddenly very interested in cleaning every crevice of his hand.

"Don't fucking lie to me. Just don't smoke in the car next time and ask before you take one. Emile doesn't like when the car smells," Remy handed him one of the slushies.

"Sorry," Virgil took a long sip until the pain of bain freeze bloomed behind his forehead before digging around in Remy's bag until he found the alcohol..

"Pour me some in too, would ya?"

"Sure," Virgil unscrewed the cap and poured some in his own then a bit more in Remy's cup. "More or is this good?"

Remy glanced over at him.

"Who the fuck do you think I am?"

"More it is."

"Exactly."

"I swear you're that "Two shots of vodka" vine," Virgil shook his head.

Remy chuckled. "I take zero offence to that. Also, I gotta make sure you don't drink too much. You have school tomorrow."

"You're literally drinking and driving. And I'm going to school trollied tomorrow whether you like it or not."

"I think this is why your father hates me."

"He doesn't hate you. He can't. You and Uncle Emile are like his only friends."

"Doesn't he also have that flower boy?" Remy pulled into the Crispy Creme's parking lot.

"That's his boyfriend," Virgil corrected and took another sip. Slowly he felt the alcohol kick in.

"You mean your new father, then?"

"I guess. Not officially yet but hopefully soon. He's nice. On the other hand, if he moves in I'll have to hide my skull collection."

Virgil followed Remy out of the car and into the shop.

The sugary sweet smell of warm doughnuts filled the air.

Remy bought a box, tipped a twenty and pulled Virgil back out with him.

"I'm not letting you drink any more," he decided. "You're not going to school drunk, kid."

"Yes, I am. Fuck off and give me a doughnut."

"Either you stop drinking or you don't get any doughnuts."

Virgil glared at him and took a doughnut.

"Fine."

---

He still had a headache when he went to math class later.

He wasn't sure if it was just the hungover or also something else.

Not that it mattered. He had already learned the shit, the man, whose name he couldn't remember, was explaining incredibly badly at the blackboard.

Instead of paying attention he stared blankly out of the window.

Slowly the sleep deprivation was also starting to catch up with him, making his eyes heavy.

Janus had texted him that they wouldn't be coming to school for the day, which made it even more dull than usual.

He should have stayed drunk.

Then it at least would've been somewhat interesting.

Virgil woke up again to the sound of the school bell. He blinked a few times, trying to reorient himself and sighed.

At least math was over.

His next lesson was English, then Chemistry.

Or maybe he should just skip.

It wouldn't make a difference.

Maybe he could find a nice spot for the graffiti design he'd come up with based on the last body he'd found in the sewers.

The rats had eaten the fuckers stomach out and Virgil had set the eyebrows or rather what had been left of the eyebrows, on fire before taking a few pictures for reference.

He'd just have to come up with something for when Janus asked where he'd gotten the idea.

Virgil left the classroom and ducked into the nearest bathroom, locking the stall door behind himself before climbing out of the window. He wondered briefly how long it'd stay locked before someone noticed that it wasn't occupied at all. Probably at least until the toilets were cleaned. Whenever that'd be.

A sports teacher was preparing a lesson by the tracks but she was too focused on the task at hand to notice Virgil sneak to the fence and climb over it. He gave the school a middle finger over his shoulder as he walked away. For all he cared, every single person in there could go fuck themselves. Especially the principal.

Papa was working - at the university today - so Virgil went home to drop off his backpack and picked up his graffiti bag, headphones and the sketchbook he'd drawn the design in..

He strolled through the streets of downtown, avoided a few coppers and took an underground to take him wherever. As long as there were big empty walls there he didn't care.

He got out at the sixth stop.

Virgil didn't make a habit of spending time uptown.

Occasionally maybe, for family celebrations or when he and Janus planned heists but other than that he stayed in the part of town he had been raised in.

But that didn't mean that he didn't know the streets and alleyways, the shops, public buildings and skyscrapers made of glass, like towers out of a fairy tale. Papa was of the firm opinion that knowledge was power and he'd made sure that Virgil knew everything he needed about Woethough.

It didn't take him long to find a good wall.

The back of the main police station was just painfully boring.

Virgil pulled the half mask he used for vigilante business over his face, partly to avoid someone seeing his face and partly because of the fumes. Then he opened the sketch book and pulled two spray cans out of his bag, shaking them.

This'd be fun.

He worked far slower than usual, the anxiety over being spotted by the damned pigs making him pack up the cans he wasn't using immediately, so he'd be able to make a quick escape, and check for witnesses every five minutes.

By some miracle no one came by. For a while, he had the insistent feeling of being watched but couldn't find anyone.

He watched the flames, body and rats take shape with every colour he added until he got to the point where more would only make it worse.

Virgil took a few steps back and grinned. He signed it with his usual spider and took a photo to send Janus. They weren't online so he didn't bother waiting for a reply and packed up his stuff.

It was around noon now and he was getting hungry but ignored the feeling. He could eat later.

Instead he walked around some more, pickpocketed a businessman he recognized from TV - Mr Grimm or something like that - and bought a few new markers from the stolen money, before climbing onto the roof of a library to test them out.

At eight he took a train back to downtown.

It was already dark thanks to autumn finally taking over properly and most other teens were probably either suicidal, gang members or at home.

This was the beauty of the city.

As soon as the sun went down the few laws that were actually followed became meaningless.

Now the city belonged to the street rats and the lawless. They were all animals. From the racoons and possums, over the henchmen and thieves up to the mafia and his family.

All animals.

Hungry for blood.

Greedy and destructive.

Virgil absolutely loved it.

He passed a few of Uncle Jeremy's men beating up a cop with a crowbar in an alleyway, greeting him as he passed, watched a woman smash a chair over the head some guy who had tried to grope her, dishevelled and angry, and grinned at the raven and racoon, which were fighting viciously over some small animal one of them had killed.

There was a light burning in the living room when he got home. Not the ceiling light - it was far too muted for that.

He unlocked the front door and shut it behind himself. It was warm in here.

"I'm home!" he called, taking off his shoes and jacket.

No reply.

"Papa?"

Still no reply.

Virgil frowned, waiting for a moment longer and went into the living room.

Papa was slumped on the couch, fingers tracing an empty glass. Next to it on the table was an empty bottle of whiskey, that Virgil knew had been more than half full just this morning. He'd opened it after all.

Slowly Papa looked up as if only noticing him standing in the doorway now.

"...V'gil," he slurred.

"How much did you drink?" Virgil asked with a frown. He couldn't remember ever having seen Papa drunk.

He blinked at the bottle and gestured vaguely with one hand. "J'st a little."

Virgil sighed.

"Well, you clearly had enough. You're fucking trollied. Let's get you to bed, shall we? You'll hate yourself for this tomorrow, you know?"

"Already do," Papa mumbled as Virgil put his arm over his shoulder to support him.

Papa leaned on him heavily and Virgil staggered under the weight slightly but managed to bring him to the stairs, where Papa could also hold onto the bannister, taking some of the weight of his shoulders.

"You look so much like your mother," Papa suddenly said, just as they reached the second floor and Virgil almost let him fall in surprise.

Papa didn't talk about her.

He never did.

"She had her hair like that for a while too," Papa continued. "Then she grew it out longer. She looked so beautiful. Like an angel."

Virgil kicked open the door to Papa's room.

He didn't say anything, almost forgetting how to breathe. Papa was actually talking about her.

Carefully Virgil let him slide onto the bed and ducked to take off his shoes.

"I didn't mean to kill her," Papa said, anguish in his voice as he began combing through Virgil's hair with one hand. "I really didn't. I  just- I just wanted to scare her."

His hand slid over Virgil's cheek slowly and even though Papa was looking at him Virgil had the feeling that he wasn't seeing him.

No.

Papa was seeing her.

"I didn't think it'd be that fragile," Papa's hand slid down further and settled on Virgil's neck. A jolt of panic shot through him. "I didn't think it'd break that easily."

Papa began to squeeze.

"I just grabbed her and pressed down."

His grip began to hurt and Virgil tried to gasp for breath, clawing at the hand on his throat.

"And then she was dead. Just like that."

Blackspots appeared in Virgil's vision and he swung out wildly.

His fist hit Papa on the temple and he collapsed onto the bed.

Virgil gasped and coughed, stumbling back towards the door and slammed it as soon as he was on the hallway.

He still couldn't breathe.

Why the fuck couldn't he breathe?!

His vision swam, from tears this time instead of lack of oxygen.

Was this how she had felt?

In her last moments, getting choked by the man she had loved and trusted?

He didn't want this. This panic in his chest keeping him from breathing and making the world around him blur. At least not because of Papa. Not him. Never because of Papa. Papa was supposed to be safe. Papa protected him. Papa helped him calm down.

Papa had just tried to kill him.

Virgil sobbed.

Papa had tried to kill him the same way he'd killed her.

Virgil barely remembered to grab his jacket as he ran out, slamming the front door and running down the dark street.

He stopped at the North Bridge and collapsed against the railing.

The air was now so cold it almost burned in his lungs as he finally managed to take a breath. His throat hurt. He carefully wrapped his hand around it. It'd bruise.

 "You look so much like your mother."

Virgil stumbled on through the streets. His reflection in a dark shop window caught his attention and made him stop.

His cheeks were streaked with black.  His eyes were covered almost completely by messy black hair.

So she had had shoulder-long hair at one point.

Virgil grabbed a hand full of hair and pulled at it until a few strands ripped off.

He stared down at them.

He didn't want Papa to see her in his place.

The lights of another store, also reflecting in the shop window he was standing in front of caught his attention.

Did they have bleach there?

He crossed the street.

The shop was empty and Virgil was barely aware of the song playing over the speakers, so quiet that it was drowned out by his mind.

He grabbed two cartons.

Bleach and the first hair dye his hand touched. He didn't care. He had no idea what colour her hair had been. He just didn't want black.

He didn't bother to wait for his change as he handed the cashier a twenty and fled the store.

Back at home, Virgil locked himself in the bathroom and ripped open the bleach carton, barely skimming the instructions.

The chemical smell filled the room as he spread it over his hair and when he was done he had to open a window to breathe.

He set a timer on his phone and busied himself with washing off his make up while he let it set.

Once he was done with that he began pulling at the skin of his arms and digging his nails into the scars to keep his thoughts from spiralling again.

The timer went off and he rinsed his hair out.

It was almost white now.

He ripped open the secong carton.

Purple.

For fucks sake.

He spread it over his hair, careful to get it everywhere.

If he was going to look stupid he might as well make sure it wasn't splotchy.

He wasn't hungry anymore but he still went into the kitchen and warmed up some soup, forcing himself to eat, despite the gag reflex that kicked in a few times.

Then he washed his hair again.

He didn't bother looking at the result before he grabbed the razor and scissors. Once he was done he pulled on a turtle neck to hide the forming bruise, poured a glass of water and grabbed an aspirin.

For a few minutes he stood in front of Papa's door, frozen until he managed to go in, put both items on the nightstand and immediately flee again.

Then he once again grabbed his jacket and left, locking the door behind himself.

He wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. At least not if he stayed here.

---

A knock on the window snapped Janus out of the half-asleep half-awake state they'd been in for hours.

Slowly they stood up, the floor cold against their bare feet, and frowned at the figure in the window.

They grabbed a glass water bottle as a weapon and cautiously opened it.

The figure slid inside.

"Virgil?" Janus frowned and set down the bottle. "The fuck are you doing here?!"

"You owe me," Virgil rasped. "Five nights. From that bet."

Janus blinked, their brain catching up slowly.

"The one we made for my parent's wedding?"

Virgil nodded.

He was upset. Even in the dark Janus could tell.

They closed the window, cutting off the cold draft, and Virgil took off his shoes.

For a moment they contemplated what to say.

They were sure that something had happened.

They just didn't know what.

"I won't ask," they finally said, "but if you want to talk... I'm here for you, okay?"

Virgil nodded.

"Thanks."

He didn't say anything else. His voice was hoarse.

Janus led him over to their bed and climbed in, letting him follow.

He'd cut his hair.

It also looked lighter than usual, though they couldn't be sure in the bad lighting.

Janus had almost fallen asleep again when they hear a muffled sob.

They looked over at Virgil again.

He was crying.

So something bad had happened.

For a moment they hesitated before they wrapped their arms around Virgil and pulled him against their chest.

"It'll be okay," they promised.

Virgil just latched onto them and buried his face in their shirt.

Next

Taglist:

@patton-cake , @isabelle-stars

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts virgil #remy sanders #ts remy #logan sanders #ts logan #janus sanders #ts janus #alcohol #gun #tw blood #im so so so sorry #my writing #au #woethough au #angst

[sillypandalover91]

Twitterpated

Ao3

Self restraint was surprisingly one of Angel’s stronger suits despite what he lets people to believe. Growing up gay in an Roman Catholic mob family in a time where boys were sent for “medical treatment” for looking at other boys with a little too much interest would do that to a guy.

So when he felt Alastor’s fingers worm their way under his hand during family movie night, he didn’t react immediately.

It all started when Charlie discovered Disney via a patron who had recently died and was sent straight to the hotel by her mother of all people, with a note that said There was a mix up in processing, she doesn’t belong here. Take care of her until your Uncle Gabriel can come get her New Years.

Charlie had nearly detonated fireworks inside the hotel in her excitement because an honest to grandfather heaven bound had been blessedly dropped onto her lap. It would be an absolute shame if she didn’t take advantage and pick her brain to see how she earned her halo so that she could apply it to her other patrons, specifically Angel Dust who seemed to drift further and further away from Heaven’s light.

Vaggie had told her, not for the first time either, that Angel was a lost cause but never let it be said that the Princess of Hell was not tenacious. Nor was she one to give up on her friends.  He didn’t make it easy though...What with the turf wars and drugs and booze and constant sex and...yeah.

But here in her hands, she had a way to redemption and step one was obviously-

“I remember this studio,” said Angel when the opening jingle revealed the Disney Castle. He munched on some popcorn and nodded, “I remember watching Snow White, Pinocchio, and Bambi. Heh, Pinocchio scared the shit outa me. Growin up, pops told me that boys who were bad became jackasses .”

“Explains you,” muttered Vaggie into her mug of coco, nearly spilling it when Angel retaliated by throwing popcorn at her, “Hey!”

They had worked their way backwards, starting with the classics much to Alastor’s delight. Having grown up poor, all he had was a single fairytale book that was literally falling apart. Then he had discovered radio and then developed his fascination with murdering and...Well, he was glad to have this opportunity to experience fairytales again. Angel  in particular liked Al’s eagerness for family movie night. It was cute.

That is until tonight when they were watching Bambi and they were at the part where hunters had killed the fawn’s mom. Charlie gasped from across them, turning to Vaggie for some explanation as to why this was in a children’s film. Husk sighed heavily and took a long drink from his beer bottle, Niffty quickly getting up to bring more drinks but Angel didn’t miss how she was wiping at her eye.

He glanced over at Alastor, whose eyes had become dials, and twisted his hand so that their fingers laced together, gently squeezing them and slowly raising his upper arm out to coax his friend to curl up next to him. It was a long shot that Al would allow this despite their friendship but to his surprise, Alastor fell into place and reached out his other hand to hold Angel’s lower left one.

Bambi had hit too close to home for Alastor and they needed a brief intermission shortly after Bambi’s dad took him in. 

Water splashed on face and tears were wiped away. Snacks and drinks were replenished and they all made themselves comfortable again.

To Angel’s delight and horror, Alastor dragged a blanket over and made himself comfortable again tucked under Angel’s arm with a pleased smile, tail softly  thumping against the couch when Angel rested his head on his.

Spring time in the movie lifted everyone’s moods from Charlie squealing at the cute little skunks, to Alastor’s ears perking up when Bambi fought for his doe. He felt Angel’s breath come out in a snort but didn’t question it until the movie was over and it was just them two picking up the living room.

Angel shrugged, “I don’t know, guess the love dovey stuff was a bit much.”

“I thought you like lovey dovey stuff.” Alastor tossed the folded blankets back into their basket.

“I do. It’s just that I don’t believe that it happens the way it happens in movies. It’s unrealistic if you ask me.”

“Yes, exactly! I feel the same way. Though I suppose with moving pictures, time is of the essence what with their limited time frame to tell their story.” Alastor helped Angel take the dirty cups and bowls back to the kitchen, putting the dishes into the sink and rolling up his sleeves while Angel put away the left over snacks.

“I take it that you aren’t a fan of the whole love at first sight trope either then, huh?”

Alastor grin widened, “Not at all, my dear. Though to be fair, I  can’t say that I’m a fan of love either. Besides my mother, I never put much thought into loving someone else, never mind romantically.”

Angel’s heart ached at the deer’s words but he nodded anyway, “Yeah. Love is too messy anyway.” It had a nasty habit of making you see things that weren’t there. Of course Al didn’t feel the same way. Him cuddling and holding Angel’s hand didn’t mean anything. He was just cold and Bambi’s mom dying would’ve made anyone seek comfort in a friend.

“And requires far too much work,” agreed Alastor, his heart breaking at Angel’s dismissive words. But the work wasn’t as off putting to him as he thought. Charlie and Vaggie had their moments but months of being a shadow on the wall during their quarrels served to teach him that one disagreement didn’t have to mean the end of a relationship. If anything, working through it could make it stronger.

He felt Angel move next to him to dry the clean dishes. Alastor glanced at him from the corner of his eye, “Have you ever experienced...that is to say, have you ever been in love?”

Angel didn’t slow his methodological movements as he nodded.

“Oh.”

It had been almost silent but Angel heard it. He put the dishes away and waited for Al to finish washing the last few mugs, leaning an elbow on the counter and resting his cheek on his fist, “Have you?”

“No.”

“Hm.”

“Indeed.” Alastor wondered why he even bothered indulging in his confusing thoughts. The owl had described what Angel made him feel down to walking on damn air. Only thing it had gotten wrong was it hadn’t been as quickly as it had been with Bambi or Thumper, or Flower. It had been after Angel had decreased his advances and increased his willingness to simply chat with him well into the evening. How he didn’t blink twice when he’d made his famous gumbo with meat from his hunt or judged him he had walked on him snacking on fingers like they had been buffalo wings one night. As a matter of a fact, Angel had taken his cannibalism without fuss at all though Alastor chalked that up with Angel being a predator demon himself.

Then it had been the way Angel carried himself, even when he was ‘on the clock’. What Alastor had once seen as vulgar promiscuity, he now saw as hunting tactics. And if Angel had fun during his means to an end well more power to him. It was when he was off the clock, though, that Alastor found him the most endearing. When he was playing with Fat Nuggets. When he was having girl time with Niffy and Charlie, playing poker with Husk, and watching documentaries with Vaggie.

It was the way Angel smiled when he did all of this, content and relaxed, that made Alastor’s head spin and heart flutter. The way he cried if the documentary was about nature and a cute animal died. It was the way Angel was weak by demon standards but strong by human. By his standards.

“Al?”

Alastor jumped when Angel gently shook him by the shoulder with a worried frown. He felt himself smile, “Yes, darling?”

“I said that the mugs are clean enough. Give’em here so we can go to bed.” Angel took the squeaky clean mugs from Alastor and quickly dried them, putting them in their cupboard and tossing the dish towel into a basket next to the sink.

The two demons stared at each other, waiting for something neither knew the other wanted.

Sighing, Angel shook his head and offered a small smile, “Alright, I’m gonna go hit the hay. See ya tomorrow, Smiles.”

“Sweet dreams, dear.” As Al watched Angel retreat, a moment of foolish bravery overcame him and he called out to him, “Angel!”

Angel paused at the door and glanced over his shoulder, “Yeah?” He watched as Alastor summoned his microphone to fiddle with more than anything, something he’d noticed the deer did when he was nervous. Strangely enough, Alastor only did that when they were alone. It was cute.

Having found the words he wanted, or gathered his courage, Alastor asked in an unfiltered voice, “Do ya think...Do y’think you could fall’n love again?”

Self restraint was surprisingly on of Angel’s stronger suits, despite what he led people to believe. And now, he was happy it was because without it, he would’ve overstepped Alastor’s personal space and ruin whatever it was that was happening right now. Instead he lowered his lids and smiled warmly, “Yeah, I could. What about you? Think you could give being twitterpated a shot?”

“I won’t act a fool like those little animals from the picture, will I?”

“Would you care?” Angel asked as he reached out a hand.

Alastor thought about it for a second but answered Angel’s smile with a warmer one of his own and laced his fingers with Angel’s, allowing the spider to lead him upstairs to bed, “Not at all.”

#radiodust #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel #panda writes #I've written nothing but medical reports... #I need to practice fiction again #and what better than these two vintage husbands

[andieperrie18]

BLACK SEA (p. lahote)

SO THIS IS MY ATTEMPT ON WRITING THE PROMPT I POSTED A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO. THIS IS JUST AN ATTEMPT.

Freya had been with the Cullens for quite and they were the only who ones who know of her real nature. After escaping the terror of Ragnarok by some miracle, she is sent to Midgard or also known as Earth in human tongue.

inspired by Natasha Blume's Black Sea

Paul Lahote x Oc

Malina Weissman as Freya Cullen

She is taken under by Carlisle and Esme as their first child. The couple had nothing but kind parental figures that Freya’s real parents can’t be and not wanting to destroy the bond between these two immortal beings, she revealed herself as the Nordic Hound, Fenris. She Who Dwells in the Marshes.

Freya told them how she only wanted to be accepted and love. She told them that she had thought the gods loved her for they took care of her for all her childhood but because of their fear of her overpowering them, they bounded her down and stuck a sword to her mouth, forever leaving her grieving and hurting as the days of Ragnarok came. The day she vowed to swallow the bastard god Odin. But upon the arrival of the said day, she wasn’t prepared for the consequences of her world’s end. She was left alone. With no one else to care for her.

The Cullens, whom were thoroughly captured by her melancholic life decided to take her in as their own and will forever call her as their own no matter what kind of being she was. They vowed that they will take her secret to the grave. And in them she found what her heart desired for eons.

Their family grew bigger and bigger as witnesses of her primordial existence grew but only within her family. Unlike the shape shifter, she didn’t reek any kind of dog mutt smell that any vampire’s strong sense of smell can breathe. Her scent is composed of fresh bloomed roses and pine. She lived among the most dangerous predator as another monster.

For thousands of years she and Cullens roamed, living country after country, life after life. They didn’t need to worry of feeling of belongingness as Freya gave her whole heart to them and loved them enough to allow themselves to never linger in the darkness of their damnation by feeding on blood. Her appearance may trick any person that she is the youngest of the Cullens but she is actually the eldest of all the foster siblings. She adapts to each of them in their first years of vampirism. Making sure to keep them bay and providing them the emotional help that they need. She had adapted her human form to almost match their skin tone that she would almost look like a vampire herself but when their eyes glowed in crimson, hers glowed in green as it mirrored her abilities in her other form.

In human, they are dull green but sparked the light in the family but when in tap with her lycanthrope, they are a yellow green that always glared at murderous intent. No one but her family can tame her monstrosity.

Her life with them is simple and quiet but that was until they transferred to small town called Forks. Where they encounter a Quileute tribe forming a treaty with them and showing them Freya’s true nature to show that they can live in piece with them. For years, from that they on she never showed her true form as she believes that this wolf nature of hers can only be called upon to only serious occasion like the Volturi, just in case as Freya didn’t like them at all. But she did manage to cloak her true self from their judging and immoral eyes. She knew that if they found out about her origin, it could mean danger for both humans and creatures.

And then came Bella Swan. Which brings us to this day.

- Midgard, Forks -

Newborns were threatening the lives in Forks and Bella’s that caused two mystical creatures to be gathered in the middle of a clearing. Freya had hung herself dangling from a thick branch with her legs out of boredom. Today was the day where she and family would meet the wolf pack to train under Jasper.

This would probably her first time encountering a pack as she had been a lone wolf all her life well before she met Cullens. They were her pack. Her home. And she will not stop at nothing to keep the safe. Bella included.

“Hey sweetie, can you come down for a bit?” Esme called to her. Freya looked down to meet her mother’s face before catapulting off the branch and landing smoothly in a crouch position.

Esme smiled a bit, ‘old habits die hard I guess’ she thought as her daughter stood straight. The girl may have been raised by them for a long while and tried to teach her human etiquettes as much as possible but they cannot change the fact that Freya is still a wolf and her k9 idiosyncrasies will always been intact as habit. But they all still love her anyway.

“What is it mom?” Esme caressed her head, “This is your first time meeting wolf pack. Any last minute comments?” her daughter retorted as they walked side by side towards where her other siblings were.

“Well I am curious since I’ve been a lone wolf for quite a while. Besides, I know I can handle them. I’m the Alpha of Alphas.” Freya grinned, “Yep, and I know big sis can show those whose the real boss.”

The green-eyed girl phased her head to meet her buff younger brothers and blonde sister. Smiling at them, she transferred herself from her mother’s embrace to the buff male. “Please don’t get to rowdy Em. You’re ass might end up on the floor of you keep being sassy.” With an eye-roll he replied with his wife sighing-ly smiled at her husband, “Yes sister, you know still don’t get why we let you be our elder sister when you are distinctively in a body of a sixteen year old. If you ever had a boyfriend, people might sue him for pedophilia.” Freya’s mouth shot open as her face contorted into disbelief as she was clearly offended. Rosalie and Esme stared at each other, eyes wide and awkward echoing the same thought in their minds.

‘Oohh he’s gonna get it.’

Carlisle and Edward stood in good approximate from where Sam Uley’s pack gathered. He was just in the middle of explaining about the difference of the New Borns when…

“*BLAGHH*”

Emmette’s figure flew above them and hitting a tree before falling to the ground. Everyone’s attention turned to his groaning figure trying to stand and then came a, “YOU LITTLE SHIT! I’LL PUT GARLIC OIL IN YOUR CESAR SALAD FOR A WEEK!!” from the clearing came an angry Freya, stomping her way to where Emmette stood.

Esme and Rosalie had arrived, the former being the making way beside her husband to report the sudden commotion while the latter stood from a few steps, trying to keep herself from bursting out laughing and feeling a tinge of guilt for laughing at her soulmate.

“Emmette called her little indirectly.” As much as Carlisle wanted to laugh, he held himself as he was in the middle of a serious meeting.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Come on Freya! I was just kidding! I’m sorry!” Not yet noticing her crowd, Freya grabbed his neck and had him on his feet. Her seemingly fragile and petite figure dragged him away from where landed.

Jacob had never seen this girl around the Cullens. Sam and his packed eyed in disbelief with this scene. But one thing came to their attention. Her scent, it didn’t match the Cullens not one bit.

“That’s the three hundred and twelveth time you called me out! I am older than you Emmette now you better respect me or I’ll ground you from watching any baseball game and dad won’t be able to—” “Um, Freya sweetheart.”

Her father’s smooth voice called her, breaking her plundering anger. She turned to meet his face to see him and her mother giving her an awkward smile, ‘you can kill him later sweetie.’ Their face said.

Like Rosalie. Alice, Jasper and Edward tried to hold themselves back from laughing as they were in really serious meeting. Bella was confused but had a ridiculous smile secretly etched on her lips with the way the eldest held the muscled man by the neck.

Freya turned to a swift to the pack of wolves across her. Staring at her.

“Oh..uh.. s-sorry. I’ll-I I’ll just go back here. Please continue.” Clearly embarassed she continued to scolded Emmette this time about confounding in the middle of a war meeting.

“Alright, returning back to topic. Our kind is never more physically powerful than in our first several months in this life.” Carlisle continued before turning to Jasper to continue.

The blonde male proceed his lecture about the Newborns. This time noticing Freya clearly attentive at this time of need. Not that he hadn’t told about her about the natures of Newborns before but because she knew when to take tings seriously. That’s was why she can substitute herself as head in their family, similar to an Alpha as Carlisle had entrusted her with keeping all of them safe since she is a force a lot stronger to be reckon with. The sparring began. All came in pairs showing their four-legged temporary allies how Newborns. Then came her turn.

Turning to Emmette, to Jasper and Edward. Indicating a quick nod.

“One more note, I believe this would be rather useful to all of you since you are a pack and share a connection with each other.” She trailed as they eyed her yet her eyes remained to the black wolf as if trying to emphasize something.

“Never.” Emmette appeared behind him and locked her in a headlock with no sense of holding back, “Ever. Try.” Edward and Jasper neared her immobilized figure, “To Be Alone. In a Swarm.”

Her eyes flashed the poison green glow. Making every fur in their bodies stand as if they were slashed by a blade like a samurai right before their eyes.

Her feet lifted from the ground as her momentum in a cartwheel bringing Emmette on her life causing him break his choke hold and for her hook her own arm around his neck to a choke hold and slamming him down to the dirt ground.

“Not unless your like me.” She smirked before turning with both her arms extended as she ran towards Jasper and Edward and grabbing their necks and swiftly slamming them down to the ground as well before they could even fight back.

“Remember this little Alpha.”

Recomposing herself, she turned back to Sam and began to eye all of the wolves. Making sure to meet her glowing green eyes. Staring up at her. Even the Alpha himself gazed upon her as if she was the highest being that ever existed. It was as if she was his leader, his sovereign and ruler.

“A lone wolf may die but a pack always survives.”

To the Cullens, it may sound like a reminder but to the wolves, it was more of warning especially to Sam.

It was almost like an instinct as after her warning, all of their heads lowered and whimpers dripped from their snouts. In their minds, it was if they were beneath the gaze of the beast with the fear that if they meet her glowing poisonous green orbs, it could be interpret as disrespect and cause them their damnation.

Peering to each tamed heads one by one, Freya stared down at them as she didn’t speak of the warning as a type of threat but as an advice if they want to last a night. She could sense their hatred and egotism towards their mortal enemies.

But a sound of growling caught her attention. Sam took notice of this as well and it take long before found out that its source is the grey wolf beside him.

‘Paul stop!!’

‘Paul Calm down!!!’

But the male didn’t budge. This bloodsucker had no right to order. She wasn’t his alpha and he doesn’t take orders from a girl.

Her feet crunch the forest floor with every step until it reached Paul’s lowered vision. It was moments like this that Freya liked her primordial hierarchy among the children of the moon. Her love on putting people to place gives her sense of satisfaction.

“Gaze upon me mortal creature.” Her hand hovered under his snout and my a unknown force, his head was lifted to meet her piercing eyes. But what came next was the last thing Paul Lahote would ever expect with a goddess.

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