#One gives the impression of a “holier than thou” attitude while the other comes from a genuine desire to help

[sullina]

"You don't have adhd, everyone forgets stuff sometimes!"

Yesterday, as i was grocery shopping, i was thinking "hm, i need to get something that's at the other end of the store" and forgot what i wanted to do as i was walking other there This happened TWICE as i was there. In ONE shopping trip, mind you. And I still forgot the one thing i was actually there for.

And just today, i made instant ramen, poured hot water into a bowl with the noodles, and immediately forgot about it. I don't even know for how long I forgot about it, but it was definitely longer than 5 minutes, bc the noodles had swelled to twice the size they're supposed to be.

More often than not, I'll get up and tell myself "okay, I'm doing this one thing today" and then it's 10pm and I didn't do the thing, because i just forgot.

I've been meaning to check if i have any shampoo left of the one that i use, but the only times I remember that I have to check is when I'm at the store and looking at the shampoo bottles. Naturally, I forget to check once I'm home.

Sure, everyone forgets stuff sometimes, but when you have adhd, it's not "sometimes". It's all the time. It's so often that you come to expect forgetting of yourself.

"Just write yourself some reminders"

I will forget that I have reminders

"Put them somewhere, where you'll see them!"

Just because I'm looking at something, doesn't mean I'll see it. Not to mention that anything new will eventually be not new and blend into the background, at which point I will no longer be aware of it, making it useless.

"Ugh, stop being so difficult!"

You're the one giving out advice that I 1) most likely didn't ask for and 2) have already heard a thousand times, tried hundreds of times, and found that it worked exactly 0 times. It's not my fault you're forcing advice on me that doesn't work for me.

"Just try harder!"

Pretty bold of you to assume that I'm not already trying my best. You think I want to forget to do everything I have to do? For what, just to spite you of all people? YOU?? You really think you are so important to me that I would put any effort into spiting you?

Don't flatter yourself.

[fraeuleintaka]

Character Introduction (Investigations 2): Verity Gavèlle

This is the 40th post in the Ace Attorney Investigations Collection Countdown: 41 days left until release!

Today's topic: Verity Gavèlle Character Introduction!

Coming to the new characters from Investigations 2, we start off with the main rival: Justine Courtney (Verity Gavèlle).

Similar to Investigations 1 with Shi-Long, an Interpol agent, Investigations 2 gets creative with its main rival. Justine is a judge and so inherently has more power than Miles as a prosecutor which keeps the difference in power level between the protagonist and rival from the main series, just applying it a little differently. A really nice move to keep it interesting.

Justine is unlike any previous judge we've seen in the series, she doesn't stay on the sidelines and just watches, she gets involved with the investigation of cases which her introduction also directly states. Why she does this now in particular is left open as a mystery, it's only hinted at having something to do with Miles. Very fitting because her exact role and motivations are something the player has to find out over the course of the story and it's a nice bit of intrigue.

Her introduction delves a lot more into her personal beliefs and personality, she considers the law absolute and unflexible, an opinion Miles also used to have but re-evaluated since then. Justine isn't quite like Miles used to be before his redemption, though she does have a distinct holier-than-thou attitude that's somewhat familiar and her views on the law are a great opportunity to test Miles' convictions on his chosen path and challenge how far he's willing to go to follow them. In that way she's another perfect rival for Miles to face, and befriend in the end, similar to Shi-Long from Investigations 1 (who continues having development and importance in Investigations 2, there is that question of the source of his hatred of prosecutors after all...).

Personality-wise Justine is described as elegant (undeniable) and having a saintly smile that hides how merciless she is when bringing down justice on criminals. I love the metaphorical reference to her mighty gavel, it creates a wonderful mental image. It also hits the core of her personality without giving too much of her depth away. She's friendly and polite on the surface but when it counts she's as strict and relentless as they come. These traits in particular create wonderful interactions with Miles as he shares them to a degree so they work well as contrasts and mirrors of each other at the same time. It also makes Justine stand out from Franziska, the only other female rival the series had thus far (a crime imo), who is much more openly aggressive. Justine's calmness combined with her viciousness, when needed, make her a fearsome opponent in a new and fresh way.

Justine's full character artwork is amazing! The way her long dress and her cape flow around her gives it this wonderfully ethereal quality which fits her perfectly. She holds her gavel in her hand, like she's pondering over something, and a slight smile on her face, saintly maybe but definitely ready to strike at any time. Her chosen chibi sprite animation is her extending and hitting the floor with her gavel. I love that animation! It's a great way to transfer the main series staple desk slam to the crime scene where there are usually no desks to slam on. They got creative instead and came up with truly unique and awesome ways for our rivals to make their points with the necessary force behind them. (Shi-Long's equivalent is a dramatic stomping of his foot. He doesn't use it as often but it's epic when he does it and similar enough that I count it.) Justine's extending gavel is one of my favourite "gimmicks" of any character, it's wonderfully ridiculous like only AA does it but not too over-the-top while at the same time being properly intimidating and impressive to watch. She even leaves little imprints in the floor sometimes with how hard she swings her gavel! And the HD graphics make her only look more badass (and cute)! The details in her movement! Love it!

[loosesodamarble]

Hi soda , for the character ask game can I get 21, 22,23,24,25 for Nacht I know it's a lot you can skip it if you want.

Yeeeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh! I get to ramble about Nacht some more. Thank you very much, Anon~! (blows a kiss)

..........

21) If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

At this point, I think 99% of my fics have Nacht involved./lh+j With that said, my favorite thing to do with Nacht is to make him overthink. At least to me, it makes sense for him to doubt himself and think twice in some situations. He used to do things just because he thought they'd be fun, for the thrill of things. Had he taken another moment to reconsider, it's possible that he might not have summoned Lucifugus and inadvertently caused Morgen's death. So like, making Nacht stew in his thoughts for a bit is something I won't tire of.

I also really really really love shipping Nacht with Josele when I write for him but you probably already knew that./lh

Something that I don't like doing when I write Nacht... I love my sad little blorbo but... Writing his angst can be hard. Not that I don't like making him cry but... Trying to get into that self-loathing mindset where he fears being happy and feels undeserving of it... It's kinda draining to think things out the way I believe Nacht would. But it's ultimately fulfilling to get those complex emotions put to paper (or screen since my writing is digital?).

22) If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

When it comes to reading fics about Nacht, I like seeing him get to interact with the Bulls on equal-ish terms. No bitterness from his introduction and less judgement from him (not no judgement because I think Nacht should be allowed to remain a little critical). The man hates himself enough already, don't need to make the rest of the squad hate him. Also, I like it when he's shipped with Ichika because of the way they parallel each other. One older and one younger. One forces blame upon himself while the other mistakenly blamed another for her sin. I love me the beautiful imagery of Ichika being the cold moon shining in the night sky that is Nacht.

As for things I don't like, I don't appreciate when people write Nacht as the "beleaguered mom" to Yami's "irresponsible dad" for the Bulls. If anyone is the "mom" of the Bulls, it's Finral (concerned mom) or Gordon (doting mom). And really, Nacht is more like the "just walked back into the family's lives dad" to Yami's "got left to raise the kids alone mom." He comes in out of nowhere, claims he has his place in the group, and everyone accepts it when he sticks around. Heck Magna giving Nacht attitude gives the image of a son who would tell off his deadbeat dad.

23) Favorite picture of this character?

Anon, you are so cruel, trying to make me choose favorites when every image of Nacht is as precious as platinum to me.

Top two. He looks so dead inside and yet dreamy and pretty and kjahgiuasrnairsngiasruahtasruivnarsj! SIR! I CANNOT WITH HIM!

But also... And just because I wanna gush about an artist's work...

This commission that I got from CrazyCookieManiac. Nacht is looking calm, at peace, which is probably rare in his troubled and tumultuous existence. This commission was inspired by a song I love so much (it's a ship song for Nacsele so it's especially special in that sense) and it fills me with indescribable joy when I look at it. Cookie just does an amazing job capturing Nacht's beauty. I love her work so much and I'm just... in awe.

24) What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

Giyuu Tomioka from Demon Slayer. I even made this graphic to compare them.

They are just so shockingly similar.

25) What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

First impression: Hot but also holier than thou in a way that made me roll my eyes.

My impression now: Incredibly hot. Incredibly sad. Incredibly complex. Incredible to the moon and back. I want him to cry. I want him to be happy. I want so much for him and I want him for me! PLEASE KISS ME! PLEASE MARRY ME! KJADHFKJLAHLEHTRAIUEHTUIAEHTLAAIIEAUHGAEIBAEKJEHLUEHH! ナハト様、愛してる！涙を拭き取って抱きしめたい！キスしたい！世話したい！ じうあいあはいゔぁのあいふはぁねいあゔぁいえはがぁいうゔぁしはいはいう！

[thatasianstereotype]

Father, This Is Your Future Son-In-Law.

A short little side companion fic to my Adrien x Damian series. 

First: Fuck. I’m Gay. 

Second: Damn, You’re Looking Fine. 

Third: Shit. I Got To Deal With This Bitch (Again).

I’m still working on the fourth and final part of the series (it won’t be as long of a wait as Part 3). But I wanted to write how the Batfam reacted to their youngest suddenly getting a boyfriend while abroad. 

Creative liberties were taken. Also, this is a crack writing. 

The Demon Spawn who has gotten better at not attacking people at first sight but still just tolerates people. And his holier-than-thou attitude is still there with his love for throwing insults around like free candy. 

This is the kid that manages to snag a pure cinnamon roll sunshine as a boyfriend?

This angry grumpy child? 

Needless to say, the Batfam is in disbelief.

.

.

.

“What?” Bruce thought that the Teen Titans mission in Europe was done. “Why do you want to stay in Paris longer? Is something wrong?”

“No Father. I have simply found someone I wish to court. I will be spending time in Paris to see how best to present myself as an exceptional suitor that is all. Give my regards to Grayson that I will be missing Family Night but that I will make it up by introducing him to his future brother-in-law soon.” 

Bruce was too much in shock to answer when Damian hung up. 

“DICK!” 

“I think it’s cute that Dami is getting a boyfriend.” 

“Dick, you oblivious and naive child, you are completely missing the point.” 

Dick rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m pretty sure Damian isn’t actually going to marry someone right now.”

“He said ‘future brother-in-law’ inferring that this courtship he wants to initiate will end in a wedding.” 

“I think you are reading too much into this, B.” 

“And you are not reading enough. Have I taught you nothing at all?

“You taught me paranoia.” 

“I taught you to be prepared for every kind of situation.”

“Pretty sure the possibility of your 17-year-old son getting hitched in Paris can be ruled out.” 

“Where did I go wrong with you?” 

And Dick rolled his eyes once again at Bruce’s dramatic-ness. This. This is where Damian gets it from. 

.

Ever the peace keeper in this dysfunctional trainwreck of a family, Dick managed to stop Bruce from flying to Paris. But much to their frustrations (even Dick’s who wanted to know who captured his baby bro’s heart), Damian did not tell them the name of his potential boyfriend. 

.

All in all, Damian spent about two months and a half in Paris before coming back home to Gotham. And the Batfam could see a difference right away. 

Damian was happy. He smiled (it was a little one but it had Dick squealing in joy) more and he was more tolerate of his brothers and schoolmates. 

“We should’ve shipped him off to Paris earlier if he comes back like this.” 

Tim was still staring at Damian like he was an alien. The demon spawn still insulted him every other day but hasn’t threatened to kill him at all since he came back. No ripping out his intestines to feed to the vultures or throwing him off a building for the rats to feast on. It was nice. Although a little part of him felt slightly unnerving. He doesn’t have any contingency plans involving a Nice!Damian. 

Dick shook his head fondly at his little brother, taking away his coffee full of too much caffeine and replacing it with decaf. He has truly ascended to motherhood. “Well, I think it’s nice that Little D found love.”

“In the city of love. Is no one paying attention to that part?” Jason munched on one of Alfred’s cookies. “Cause I think that’s hilarious. I thought Baby Bat would’ve choked on all the happiness and bright clean air there.”

Dick whacked his arm. “Stop being mean to Dami.”

“But Dickie. It’s how I show affection.” 

.

Adrien Agreste was the son of the supervillain Hawk Moth that have terrorizing Paris for the last 3 years. Batman was not at all pleased to hear that the Parisian heroes called for help and the Justice League turned them away. People have paid for that. Dearly. 

“So his mom’s dead and his dad’s a criminal?” Jason looked over Bruce’s shoulder at the BatComputer. “Kid’ll fit right in with our family. Demon sure knows how to pick them.”

“Hnn.” Bruce grunted. 

“I mean with you dating Selina, a notorious thief and doing the thing with Talia, a very dangerously lethal assassin, it’s no wonder where your son got his taste from.” 

“Jason.” Bruce grunted in a warning tone. 

“I mean when I’m right, I’m right.”

.

“Ok.” Tim started off tonight’s Family Meeting (excluding Damian), the topic being one certain ex-assassin’s love interest. “Looking further into the Agreste kid shows he clearly did not take after his villainous dad. He is one of Paris’ teenage models and have a huge fanbase dedicated to how pure and sweet he is. He is a literal walking ray of sunshine.” 

“How the fuck did that sunshine child tame our literal feral demon brother?” Jason said. Always the VIP asking the important questions here.

Tim actually had an answer for that. He pulled out several charts and data on his laptop and showed it to the others. “Looking further into Adrien, I have found evidence that he is the cat-themed superhero Chat Noir. Being a loveable and touch-starved kitten appealed to the demon brat’s almost non-existent affections.” 

“Timmy, Dami is capable of love.” Dick said in a disappointed voice. 

“I said almost non-existent, didn’t I?” Tim waved the Mom’s disappointment away. “But you guys have got to see this.” 

He pulled up a video of Chat Noir and Ladybug on the big screen. They watched him using his signature move: cataclysm. No one spoke for a few minutes as they processed the sheer destructive powers of the hero.

“You know what.” Jason broke the silence. “I have no more questions. I can kind of see how Agreste is the demon’s type.” 

What baby assassin wouldn’t be turned on by the literal godly destructive powers the baby kitten held in his hands? 

Dick, the only one wanting to keep things semi-PG here, smacked the back of his head. 

.

“Baby brother.” Cass greeted. She is back home from her Hong Kong trip and heard all about the famous Adrien Agreste. She thought it was adorable and that Adrien and Damian made a cute couple. 

“Hello, Cassandra.” 

She peered down at the list he was currently making. She gestured towards it with a confused look. 

“I am compiling a list of tasks that needs to be done before my Chaton and new sister-in-law come to Gotham. Only the best for them after all. 

Her eyes lit up. “New sister?”

“Yes. My mon amour’s sister will be our new one.” He pulled out a picture of her on his phone for Cass to see. “Her name is Marinette and she will be a fine addition to the family.” 

“Baby sister.” Cass said happily. She was always up for new family members. 

“Yes. I imagine you two will get along the best.” 

But she couldn’t help but notice that with all the preparations he is making, even if it is for his boyfriend and new sister, is a bit —how would Steph say it?— overkill. 

Her coal black eyes were sharp as she observed his body language. “You very serious on this. Why?” 

He can never hide anything from his sister. “I wish for them to have a good impression of our family so that their family will not be disincline to reject my proposal for marriage.”

“Marriage?” She was still quite unfamiliar with some words in English. 

“It means that you will be getting another brother too.” 

.

“We will wed.” 

Dick hasn’t even finished his cereal yet. He looked over at Damian’s serious expression. “Did you even ask him yet?” 

“I will present myself as an extraordinary suitor that he will be more inclined to say yes when I ask.” 

“At least you’re treating your man right.”

Damian took offense. “Why wouldn’t I treat my mon amour with anything but the upmost respect and love?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Little D. I’m just glad you’re in a good relationship and from what I can see, Adrien adores you very much.”

Damian smiled. “I adore my Chaton a great deal as well. Would you like to come with me to pick out a ring?

Dick could just hear Bruce’s voice in his head saying he shouldn’t be encouraging this. But come on, this was his baby brother who grew up learning how to hurt people finding a precious loving relationship for himself and he will be damned if he doesn’t support this. 

“Of course. I’ll be honored to help.”

His baby brother brightened before he launched into a rant. 

“I’m having trouble finding the perfect gem to complement his eyes. They are a certain shade of forest green you see. And many jewelry stores do me a great disservice by not having that certain shade or having utterly appalling quality for what my Chaton deserves.” 

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Taglist: 

@iglowinggemma28 @iz-bell-saiah @nach0ava @roselynfey @mochinek0 @wannajointhecrabcult

[ejzah]

This is a story idea way back when the series first began and when Deeks was first introduced. Could you PLEASE write a story about everyone’s reactions when they learn that Jason Wyler is actually undercover Detective Marty Deeks. It’s always annoyed me we never saw everyone’s reactions and I would also love it if we got a formal introduction too please.

A/N: So...a lot of this ended up being from Kensi’s perspective, but I did get most the team’s reactions in to some degree. I hope this is ok.

***

“This guy’s a detective?” Sam repeated, addressing the tiny woman who had introduced herself as Henrietta Lange, instead of Deeks. His tone was definitely insulting. Now mostly over his initial shock of finding out that he wasn’t the only one undercover, Deeks resisted the urge to say something particularly unpleasant and instead smirked at the other man. Agent Sam Hanna from some fancy pants Federal Agency.

“It’s ok, don’t feel bad. I’ve fooled a lot of people before,” he responded, having a feeling it would tick Hanna off even more. He was right; Hanna made a derogatory noise, his expression disgusted, and jerked his thumb in Deeks’ direction.

“I thought LAPD had a dress code. They must really be going down hill if they’re accepting hippies off the street.” Deeks huffed out an unamused laugh. Like he hadn’t heard something similar a hundred times before. He expected a Fed to be cleverer than that honestly.

“I used to be a lawyer too,” he told Hanna who looked appropriately aghast. “And before you ask, my hair was even longer.” Deeks let his gaze flick up to Hanna’s shaved head. He could easily see the man being ex-military. He had that holier-than-thou attitude that came from years of ordering other people around and assuming you were always right.

“Alright, enough chit-chat gentleman,” Ms. Lange decided, stepping between them, her hands folded together. “We have work to do. And Detective Deeks should probably meet the rest of the team as well.”

Deeks followed after them, figuring that he wasn’t going to get anywhere by being too resistant. Besides, he was oddly intrigued by Henrietta Lange. And also a little intimidated and terrified. But he wouldn’t mention that part.

“So tell me, who all is on this team?” he asked as Sam and Ms. Lange lead him to a shiny SUV. “And where exactly are you taking me?”

“The boat shed,” Sam answered shortly, ignoring the first question.

“Ooh, sounds fancy.”

“How about we keep the small talk to a minimum?” Deeks pursed his lips at the suggestion, thinking that Hanna was about to find out just how chatty he could be. He smirked again, biting back a chuckle. If this NCIS place could mess up his op, then he could certainly ruin their day.

***

“Wait, how did LAPD get in on this?” Callen asked and Kensi perked up, wondering what Hetty was telling him. He sounded vaguely annoyed. “Ok, yeah, we’ll be at the boat shed.” Hetty had called Callen about five minutes ago with an update and there’d mostly been silence on his end. She waited impatiently for him to hang up.

“What was that about? Did Hetty get Sam out?” Callen chuckled at her questions, shaking his head as he slipped his phone into his back pocket.

“Yep, Sam’s out. And apparently Wyler got released too.”

“What? But, he attacked Sam,” Kensi said, wondering just what kind of criminal Jason Wyler was that he had strong enough connections to get out of jail after assaulting a federal agent.

“Turns out Wyler is actually some kind of undercover cop. Martin Deeks, Hetty said,” he explained with a frown.

“You’re kidding.” Kensi had known there was something off about Wyler, but a cop?

“Unfortunately I’m not. I’m gonna text Eric and see what he can dig up on this guy now that we have a real name.”

Kensi waited a few minutes and then peered over Callen’s shoulder, trying to read his texts.

“What did he say?”

“‘That makes a lot of sense. I’ve got a whole file on a Detective Marty Deeks. Looks like he’s a good cop, but whoever sets up his backstopping needs to be fired.’,”Callen read off and Kensi rolled her eyes.

“And?”

“He said to send Deeks over when we’re done so he can give him a “real” alias. He’s worried about the guy getting marked.”

“Eric hasn’t even met him yet,” Kensi protested, annoyed.

“You know Eric. He can’t resist the chance to geek.”

About 30 minutes later, Hetty, Sam and Detective Deeks walked in. Hetty led the small group and had the barest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips as Sam walked behind her, his expression stony and impassive.

Deeks stopped in the doorway, glancing around with a vaguely impressed look. He spotted Kensi, one eyebrow rising briefly, and she crossed her arms defensively. If he was surprised to see her there, he didn’t show it. He winked at her, then practically swaggered the rest of the way into the room like he owned the place.

Hetty cleared her throat and gestured to him.

“Everyone, this is LAPD Detective Marty Deeks. Detective, these are Agents Callen and Kensi Blye.” She smiled in a satisfied way and added, “Play nice.” Without another word, she left.

“Deeks,” Callen acknowledged him. “Why don’t you take a seat?” Deeks raised an eyebrow at the clear attempt to control the situation but sauntered over to the table, hooked his foot around a chair and sat down in an insolent manner.

Sam followed the movement, his face remaining impassive, but Kensi thought she saw a hint of animosity. That was unexpected. From what she’d experienced, he usually didn’t let his emotions show unless it was a particularly personal case. Apparently Deeks rubbed everyone the wrong way.

With a little prompting, Deeks explained his plan to get Sam arrested and keep him out of the gym, and effectively out of LAPD’s way.

She was vaguely impressed by his skills and ingenuity, but brushed that thought away. He was pretty good, but not as good as them. Plus, she’d known something was off about him immediately, she’d just been wrong about the root cause. Kensi also silenced the voice that reminded her that he’d been suspicious of her as well.

Deeks helped himself to some coffee, again making himself at home as he smiled cockily and joked, easily guessing their set up at the mission. Kensi resisted the urge to laugh as he teased Sam and Callen. It wasn’t good-natured teasing either, anymore than their comments to him were well-meant.

Clearly he disdained them. Good, she didn’t like him either. He was full of himself, too self-assured, scruffy, unkempt. Blue-eyed and blonde, the voice in her head supplied helpfully.

Shut up, she told it firmly. Callen and Sam were wrong. She did not have a thing for him. He was a mediocre cop who’d obviously gotten in over his head. He glanced her way, that sarcastic, half-flirty smirk in place and she stared back at him, hoping to unnerve him. All she got in return was a smoldering look, his blue eyes daring her to look away first.

Despite herself, she couldn’t help but feel a little bad that they were hijacking Deeks’ case. He’d spent months on it and now they were taking over without any remorse.

“You know, you never answered my question,” Deeks said a while later as she escorted him from the building. “Are there really r-rated photos of Special Agent Kensi Blye floating around somewhere?” Kensi glared at him and said the first thing that popped into her head.

“In your dreams.” It wasn’t particularly brilliant, but Deeks grinned nonetheless and said,

“Gladly.”

“I could take you down right now,” she threatened mildly, but he just kept smiling, clearly not intimidated by her in the slightest. It pissed her off. And intrigued her. Damn him. She would not be attracted to this scruffy, surfer dude.

“I bet you could,” he murmured as they stopped in front of his car. “See you around Agent Blye.” He winked at her again before he slid into his car and drove off.

“I don’t like him,” Sam said coming up behind her with Callen by his side.

“At least he’s on our side,” Callen pointed out. “It would be a lot more annoying if he was actually a criminal. Let’s just hope he stays out of our way for the rest of the case.”

“And once we close the case won’t have to see him ever again.” Kensi said, not sure why she felt a hint of regret at the thought. She was definitely not smitten.

“Thank god,” Sam said. “Cause I think I’d end up shooting him if I had to listen to his rambling for more than a few days.”

***

A/N: Hopefully this is ok. I really played on that fact that none of them got along super well at first.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Stark’s New Intern” Chp. 13

Summary: Erik works the first day of the Stark Expo and makes a discovery...

"The most important time in history is, now, the present So count your blessings cause time can't define the essence But you stressin over time and you follow the Roman calendar These people into cloning like Gattaca, you can bet They tryin to lock you down like Attica, the African diaspora Represents strength in numbers, a giant can't slumber forever…"

Black Star—"K.O.S. (Determination)"

"When can we meet Tony Stark?"

The chunky white girl with the dark goth hair and stank attitude glared at Erik as he stood before a podium giving the introductory remarks to the two hundred plus fourth through sixth-grade students who were attending the morning children's track of the Stark Expo.

Erik squared his shoulders and glared back at her.

"It's rude to interrupt someone's speech without raising your hand when they are explaining what is about to happen. How about you wait and let me finish?"

The girl's lips curled up in surprise and she looked around as the other children snickered at her. She rolled her eyes at Erik and folded her arms.

"Now…to finish my remarks, I'd like to say that the Children's Expo is going to be filled with various activities that you can fully choose to participate in throughout the day. Lunch will be at twelve-thirty and provided for all of you inside the Learning Annex tent located right next to the convention center…what is it now?"

The same white girl raised her hand and Erik could hear a few exasperated sighs coming from some of the other kids there.

"Will there be gluten-free food provided, because—"

"Did your parents fill out the registration form and check off gluten-free?"

"Yes—"

"Then why are you wasting our time asking about it?"

"I just want to make sure—"

"We are providing gluten-free, vegan, vegetarian, non-processed, locally sourced foods for those with dietary concerns. Anything else?"

Erik's lips curled into a scowl and a little Black girl with two tiny braids laughed out loud at his expression and quickly covered her mouth when he glanced over at her. She was the same girl that the chunky white girl had talked over at the beginning of Erik's presentation. He softened his expression at her and she visibly relaxed and dropped her hands on her lap.

He swiped his hand on his touchpad and the projected image floating behind him changed to a map of the expo space.

"Restrooms are located by following the blues lines on the walls and if you have questions or concerns, we have adult guides throughout the expo halls that can help you at any time…"

The same problem child's hand flew up.

"Stand up," Erik barked at the annoying girl.

The girl stood up, her lips tight, and her eyes still challenging him.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Katy—"

"Everyone, Katy wants some attention right now. She's been asking questions that could be answered at the end of my little talk. She's spent time whispering to people around her and being a distraction, and she has also been rude to many of you. So, Katy, the floor is now yours, we'll all just sit here and give you all the attention you want."

Erik stepped away from the podium and held his hands clasped in front of his waist.

The children stared at the girl and Katy's face, that had once been smug, slowly drained. His mother who had been a school teacher would've handled the girl a lot better, but Erik knew this type of child. He went to school with a lot of them like her. So used to being considered smart, gifted, and "special" all their life that they tended to become conceited and grew a holier-than-thou ass-hole mentality. If there was a high-income family attached behind them, they were even worse. Katy had made fun of some of the other kids who had asked good questions by belittling them with comments meant to make them look stupid. Now Erik was making her look stupid.

"Can we get back to me giving everyone information now?"

Katy said nothing.

"Sit down then," he said.

She plopped back down and he didn't hear a peep out of her for the rest of his presentation. At the end, he answered pertinent questions and released the youngins to adult handlers that matched the color-coded badges all the children wore. Forty minutes of talking, ten minutes sprinkled throughout with Katy interrupting, and twenty minutes of Q & A already had him drained from being around kids the rest of the day. He expected to hear from Tony about Katy from some of the adult handlers in the room who helped with supervision, but he didn't care. Don't start none, won't be none is what his Mama taught him.

"Are you giving a tour Mr. Stevens?"

Erik turned to see Athena making a child-sounding voice.

"Thank God no," he said with a big grin on his face.

"My track is over and the high-schoolers are going to eat lunch now, so I have a break. What do you have next?" she said.

"The Track C group. Junior high. I thought the little kids would like graphics better but they seemed to come alive more when I just talked to them and ignored my pictures."

"You're good at talking. You get excited about what your explaining and its infectious."

"It doesn't feel that way."

He glanced around. No one was watching. He cozied up to her and put a hand around her waist.

"Can I come back over tonight?"

"Be mindful, Sir," she teased, pushing back from him.

He kissed her on her lips.

He'd been swimming in her pussy for three days straight and shit was so good she had him daydreaming about her while he worked with the expo crew team to set up. He didn't even try to be discreet with her anymore because she had him hooked. She glanced around then rubbed up against him, letting her lips rest on his lush mouth.

"Could I borrow him for a second? Or do you need to hump his leg?"

Giselle stood with a palm pad in one hand and a bunch of teen badges in the other.

Athena stepped back from Erik.

"These are some badges for a few attendees who just arrived and weren't able to pick these up downstairs."

Erik took the badges from her. "You can pass them out at the beginning of your presentation. If there are some left because the attendees didn't show up, I'll take them back for tomorrow. We found some people trying to sell these outside."

"Alright," he said.

"Do us all a favor, try to stay professional and stop pawing at each other," Giselle snapped.

Athena rolled her eyes.

"I'll see you tonight, Erik," Athena said walking away.

Erik watched her swing her big hips in her tight ass slacks and he couldn't help but make a sound of approval under his breath. That was enough to annoy Giselle and she sucked her teeth.

"Don't be mad. I was tryna get with you, but you turned me down."

She ignored him and took her spot near the back of the room waiting for Erik's next session to start.

She cut her eyes at him.

"Be pissed at yourself…"

She crossed her legs and Erik noticed the deep split in her skirt and the sexy heels on her feet. Damn, she could still get it. He sat next to her. Giselle's fingers flew over her touchpad.

"I'll be professional, okay? Thanks for reminding me."

He patted her thigh and she moved her legs away from him.

"You plan on being mad at me all day?"

"I'm not mad at you."

"Jealous?"

"Of what?"

"Athena and me. You know we smashing."

"That's your business. No one needs to see it here is the point."

Giselle was cute when she was annoyed. The pout on her face was actually kind of sexy to him.

A surge of junior-high aged attendees filed into the space snagging seats. Erik stood up and headed to the podium. Checking his watch, Erik started promptly.

The junior high track was straight fire. The students were attentive, laughed at a lot of the graphics he put together for them meant to add humor to science and technology, and his Q & A session went over the allotted time because so many young people wanted to stay behind and talk to him. He had to finally type up his email and give it to the tons of questions that had to go unanswered. So many bodies flocked around him vying for his time. Giselle had to come rescue him, guiding him away from the crowd.

"They got you acting like Pepper," he joked.

"They bum-rushed you like you were Tony," Giselle said.

Her voice was pleasant. Actually friendly. He regarded her face with curiosity.

"You sound impressed."

"Actually, I was. You were great."

"Just great?"

"Okay…okay…that was a fantastic session."

"Ooh, fantastic. I leveled up in your eyes."

The expression on her face made her look open to him.

"You had lunch yet? I'm going to grab a bite and then I have to head over to the mini-lab and work there for two hours."

"No, I just had a latte earlier."

"Let's go eat…unless you have to go to your next station."

"I can eat."

He was surprised she agreed to go with him.

He steered her to the lunch pavilion in the tent outside the convention center, and they fixed themselves hearty plates of fancy catered food. They sat outside the tent on the steps of the convention building and ate their fill.

"Ah vitamin D," Giselle sighed, holding back her face to the sun when they were done eating.

She looked beautiful with her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted, and her hair resting on her shoulder. Erik ate his food while watching her sunbathe. He was still feeling her and didn't know how to get past her reticence toward him. She must've felt his eyes on her because her lids raised up slowly and for a second, Erik was lost in her face. He wanted to kiss her again and leaned forward toward her…and she was letting him.

"Hey, Devika!" Erik said pulling back from Giselle when his peripheral caught sight of her.

Tony's personal secretary strolled past carrying two bags.

"You need help?"

Erik threw away his empty plate and stepped to Devika. He took the bags from her.

"Thanks, Erik. That was a struggle," Devika said.

Her eyes took in Giselle.

"How's it going?" she asked.

"Good. I have to head over to the mini-lab. Where do you need to take these?" he asked.

"You're in luck, these actually need to go to the lab. The morning crew forgot to take these. Extra sample slides and tubes."

"Cool. I'ma head out. Holla at me later?"

His eyes gazed at Giselle.

"Maybe."

He grinned and walked with Devika.

"Are you two dating?"

"Me and Giselle? I wish."

"She doesn't like you?"

"I think she does, but she has this thing about being professional and not fraternizing while working together. Stupid."

"It's not stupid, Erik. Sometimes mixing business and pleasure backfires. I made that mistake once…"

Devika's eyes darted away from his and they both saw Tony walking toward them. Stark's eyes took in Devika and Erik knew immediately who she was talking about.

"Stevens," Tony said.

"I'm on top of stuff."

"I know you are. Lab?" he said pointing the bags.

"Yeah."

"I'll head over with you. I have a free twenty minutes so I'll show a little face…Devika I need to cancel dinner with Hartzel and Cook tonight."

"This is the third time—"

"I know. I just don't have the energy for those guys right now."

Tony walked ahead of them and Erik kept up with the bags. Devika pulled out a tablet and canceled Tony's evening plans.

The mini-lab was a replica of one of Stark Industries' actual working labs. It gave students the opportunity to see real-world applications with hands-on experience first-hand. Tony swept in to the usual fanfare and Erik handed off the lab supplies to another intern.

Erik walked around the finished lab and was shocked to see a microscope that he wanted to use back in L.A. but had no private access to. There was also other equipment he needed to be able to test the vibranium. The irony. The shit he needed but couldn't use in Los Angeles was right in front of him for little kids to play with.

Erik walked over to Samira the lab coordinator.

"Is there an evening shift?" he asked.

Samira glanced at her tablet and swiped the screen a few times.

"I have enough people, but if you want to hang out—"

"Yeah, put me on the list," he said while calculating what he would need to be able to run a discreet experiment out in the open.

###

Erik slipped past Samira and three other interns as they shut down the mini-lab for the night. He volunteered to power down all the science equipment, clean them, and pre-set them for Saturday morning so Samira and company could go eat dinner and take off early.

The vibranium was in his pocket and he moved to the back of the lab and snagged the tools he needed to take a sample of the metal and test it. He needed to be in and out of the convention center by ten and it was already seven at night. Three hours to do as much as he could to learn the properties of the metal. He would have to use episcopic illumination carefully. He had several options to choose from, so he opted to use crossed polarizing filters first until he saw that the amount of equipment in the lab was extensive enough to go full out. He decided to go with a differential interference contrast using unstained samples of the vibranium. Time was of the essence.

He worked fast and printed up results as they came, erasing any traces of his use of the equipment, including printouts of data. He felt jumpy as he heard footsteps move back and forth in the front of the entrance.

By the time he collected what data he could in the amount of time that he had, Erik was already strolling to his hotel room with his head full of wonder. Vibranium was not from earth. It had no trace of any elements found on the planet he walked on. His father and his people had been using something literally from outside of the world. The discovery actually made his hands shake as he took out his room keycard. He was excited. Dumbfounded. Even more curious. Aroused in a way that made his skin tingle.

He opened his door and across the hall, Giselle opened her door and put an empty room service tray on the ground.

Dressed in a hotel robe, her eyes met his as she stood up.

"You're back late," she said, a sly smile on her face.

Erik walked over to her door and slipped his left hand behind her neck and his right hand around her waist. Giselle's eyes had that same look she gave him at lunch, and when he crashed his lips on hers, he knew he wasn't leaving her until what needed to be done was done.

Chapter 14 HERE

###

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[dakotacrisis]

A Day In The Life Of Gorilla

Gorilla is a silent character but his inner thoughts are anything but. Hereby referred to as Ishmael because I doubt he would refer to himself as Gorilla.

---

The alarm clock went off and Ishmael got up for another day of work as Adrien Agreste’s body guard. Another day of subtly working around his emotionally stunted employer to let the socially inept teenager have a couple hours of normalcy while still retaining his job. It was a fine line but thanks to Gabriel’s frequent absenteeism and Adrien’s innate ability to sneak away it was not hard.

After getting dressed and having a long look in the mirror contemplating if he should shave the muttonchops Ishmael headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Nathalie was already there sipping some coffee and doing the newspaper suduko. She gave him a half-awake greeting and returned to her task.

Ishmael went to the cupboards and sighed. He understood when he moved to France that there would be cultural differences but he really missed big breakfasts. If he could get a weekend off he’d go visit his sister in Kirn. See how his brother-in-law is doing. Play with his nephews. Eat something other than a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast.

Soon it was time for him to drive Adrien to school. The poor boy looked like death as he slid into the backseat of the car. There had been an akuma attack last night that must have woken him up.

Upon getting to the school he waited to make sure Adrien got inside okay. One of Adrien’s friends, Nino, came up to talk to him along with some other classmates. Immediately Adrien perked up. Public school really had been the best thing to happen to that boy.

After running some errands it was time for Adrien to be picked up to go to his photoshoot. Unfortunately when he got to the school the scene playing out at the front entrance was the exact opposite of the happy environment Adrien had been dropped off in. Chloe Bourgeois was planted firmly in front of Adrien and loudly complaining at Adrien’s new co-worker Lila Rossi.

This ought to be good. Ishmael rolled the window down far enough to hear what was going on.

“It is utterly ridiculous! I will not condone this!” Chloe yelled.

Adrien said something but only Chloe’s screams could be heard from the car.

“If your dad wants someone to partner modeling with you then it is going to be me! Not this out of season, romper wearing, disrespectful, philistine.”

Philistine? He wasn’t aware Chloe carried that word in her vocabulary. He was a little impressed.

There was some more talking from Lila and Adrien to an angry Chloe before a third girl entered the fray. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The little designer that lived in the bakery had all of Ishmael’s respect. Being one of the few girls in Adrien’s circle that had a crush on him but didn’t force herself on the boy.

Case and point, Marinette came up behind Adrien and tapped him on the shoulder before pointing towards the car waiting for him. He looked back at the car with a gesture to Marinette to follow.

Yes. Come on baker girl! Take the invite!

She nodded and the two quickly snuck away from the fighting girls and hopped in the car.

“Phew,” Adrien collapsed in his seat. “Thanks for coming by when you did, Marinette.”

“No problem.” Marinette beamed. “Thanks for letting me tag along to your photo shoot.”

“Well I know how into fashion you are.” Adrien teased sending the girl’s face aflame.

Ah, young love. Even if one of them was too oblivious to see it.

Speaking of photo shoots Ishmael should probably stop eavesdropping on a couple of teenagers and drive to said photo shoot.

“Adrien!” Chloe started stopping after the car with Lila right on her heels. “Wait!”

Nope! Ishmael peeled out leaving the other girls in the dust.

Adrien and Marinette continued talking in the back leaving Ishmael to his thoughts.

Maybe if he could find some really heavy traffic that could give the two kids in his backseat more time to talk. He was not above admitting that he really like the baker girl for Adrien. Now if only the boy would drop his crush on Ladybug to pursue it.

Ishmael understood where the infatuation with the hero was coming from but at a certain point it just wasn’t possible. He had read enough comics to know that heroes dating civilians never ends well! Secret identities, misunderstandings, kidnapping and ransom on the regular. It was enough to give Ishmael anxiety just thinking about it. He was hired to protect Adrien. He would lose his mind if the boy kept getting taken hostage by akumas trying to use him as collateral for Ladybug’s earrings.

This job was stressful enough with Gabriel Agreste constantly breathing down his neck. He didn’t need the rest of his hair to go full grey because Adrien wanted to be the next Mary Jane Watson!

They pulled up to the site of the photo shoot and Ishmael waited in the car.

He liked to use this time to look up everything he could about parenting, abusive relationships, and adoption legalese. Not that he was secretly planning to expose Mr. Agreste’s gaslight parenting and adopt Adrien as his own until his mother can be found. That would be crazy.

The work gave him some reassurance though. He at least had some understanding and preparation if Mr. Agreste did ever go too far and action needed to be taken. He cared about that boy so much. Had been watching over him since he was a little kid. Came to see him as a son even if he couldn’t outwardly show it. He’d be damned if he didn’t get custody in the event that Mr. Agreste had an...accident.

Okay. That got a little dark. Ishmael wasn’t about to go and beat up his employer for not being more involved or directly invested in Adrien’s life. The thought was tempting though. So...so...tempting.

CRASH!

Oh what now? And there was an akuma turning everyone into giant flowers. Great. Does Hawkmoth ever take a day off?

Ishmael jumped out of the car to find Adrien and get him to safety when the akuma spotted him and shot what looked like seeds at him. He shielded himself from the assault only to then wake up some time later sprawled on the ground.

Had he gotten turned into a flower? What kind of nonsense was that? At least if he was back to normal that meant that Ladybug and Chat Noir had restored everything. Past events gave him reason to believe that Adrien was fine but he wouldn’t be able to stop worrying until he saw the boy.

Quickly he rushed onto set and saw Adrien stroll out into the open. Thank goodness he was safe. Ishmael stayed outside on set after that. After they wrapped up he was supposed to take Adrien straight home but when the boy came up to him with that hopeful look in his eye and an innocent plea to stop by the Dupain-Cheng bakery for a couple minutes for treats with Marinette, Ishmael couldn’t say no.

As long as they got home within the hour it shouldn’t be bad. The teenagers walked into the bakery and Ishmael had to resist the urge to go in and pick up some goodies for himself. He was working. If he wanted pastries he should have picked them up while Adrien was in school.

A few minutes went by and Adrien bid Marinette and her parents goodbye before heading back to the car. A little pink box in his hands. Oh great. Now he was gonna be stuck in the car with the smell of fresh baked pastries teasing him.

Adrien got inside and popped open the lid. “Hey Gorilla,” Adrien scooted forward in his seat and held out a macaron for him. “I got you one. It’s green tea and white chocolate flavored.”

Ishmael took the offered macaron with a small smile. Green tea and white chocolate was his favorite flavor.

They drove home and Ishmael tried not to show his annoyance when they entered and Mr. Agreste was waiting at the top of the stairs. What kind of holier than thou intimidation tactic was this?

You are not a king overlooking his subjects! Come down to eye level! Where did this attitude come from? Before this jerk face got big he was living in a rundown studio living off of microwave meals and patching thrift store jeans. You’re not a haughty as you make yourself out to be, Gabe! The fact that Emilie agreed to marry you was nothing short of a miracle considering what a prominent and wealthy family she came from. You were a tortured artist hobo next to a happy-go-lucky princess!

Calm down. Let the overbearing prick in his peppermint ensemble complain about being ten minutes late. It’ll be over soon.

Adrien looked disheartened by his father’s words. He apologized and tried to rationalize that they were only ten minutes late but Mr. Agreste was having none if it. And to top it all off he had Nathalie take the box Adrien had brought home from the bakery.

Berate the boy for being late. Pair him with a co-worker he doesn’t like. Rarely join son for meals. Barely talk to son. All of that was one thing but to take the poor boy’s treats? Was nothing sacred?

Now thoroughly miserable Adrien ascended up to his room. Nathalie handed the box from the bakery to Ishmael. “Dispose of this.” She glanced up at Adrien’s room before following Mr. Agreste into his office.

Ishmael knocked on the door to Adrien’s room but no answer came. Quietly he opened the door but didn’t see anyone. He must be in the bathroom. He deposited the box on Adrien’s desk and left.

He may not be able to protect Adrien from everything but at least he could help him in other ways.

[terror-that-flaps-in-the-evening]

A Father’s Wrath

Drake glanced down at his watch for probably the fiftieth time since he had been directed to sit down in the too-small chair outside the principal’s office. How dare she call him here on such short notice, claiming that Gosalyn had been ‘causing problems,’ and then make him wait. It was already fifteen minutes after he’d arrived, and well, although he didn’t really have anywhere he needed to be until that evening, it was the principle of the matter.

It was while Drake was still chuckling to himself about his mental pun that she finally opened the door to her office and said, “Mr. Mallard-McQuack, please, come on in.”

Drake shuddered at her sickly sweet voice - it dragged him back to the days when he himself was constantly trapped within the confines of the cinderblock walls of an elementary school. He felt his skin itching, desperately wanting to exit this prison of flashbacks and memories.

“Uhhh,” he looked up at the principal, a formidable heron whose stature rose high above Drake’s own. She was well built - Drake couldn’t help but note that she would have little trouble overpowering Drake Mallard-McQuack. Darkwing Duck would have a few tricks up his sleeve that would leave him on top of the fight, however. Drake steeled himself, willing the words to not just pop out of his mouth. Asking Gosalyn’s principal who she thought would win in a fight was not exactly the way to make a good impression.

“Words are a commodity that we’ve worked very hard to perfect, Mr. Mallard-McQuack. Why don’t we try using some of them?” She smiled down at him with a glint in her eye that Drake felt suggested that she was winning this battle.

“My apologies,” Drake grumbled, staring down at his feet as he walked into the office. He knew that he was only there because of one of Gosalyn’s stunts, but he felt as if he were personally being called up to the principal’s office all over again - out the window went his bravado in the face of someone he couldn’t win a verbal fight against.

“Very well.” Her words were curt, proper, and targeted. She sat down at her desk, straightened out her name plaque, and crossed her arms in front of her, leaning forward to direct her piercing gaze directly at Drake.

“What seems to be the problem, uhhh, Mrs. Strongbill,” Drake asked, glancing down at her nametag afterwards, and hoping with every fiber of his being that he hadn’t said her name wrong. He was in luck, for once, as he did indeed get it right. Hera Strongbill - a formidable name for a formidable foe.

“Well,if both you and your husband could show up for parent-teacher conferences, you’d be in the loop. However, since you neglected to show up last time, and I do believe your husband’s excuse for you was, ‘He is definitely not in the sewers or anything,’ whatever that may mean, I must explain all over again. Your daughter is a bit of a… problem-child.”

“She is not a problem child!” Drake lost all inhibition, standing up from the chair he had been slinking in to slam a finger on the desk as he spoke, “That child has been through more than you ever will, and she deals with things in her own way. Now, I know for a fact that sometimes she gets… carried away, but that doesn’t mean she’s anything less than a genius. Have you seen her grades recently?” His eyes widened. What was he doing? Oh goodness what was he doing? He couldn’t yell at the woman who was in charge of his daughter’s fate…

He looked down at Mrs. Strongbill, who had lit a fire in her eyes as she barked, “Have a seat, Mr. Mallard-McQuack!” Before Drake even had the time to react, he felt his bottom making contact with the seat behind him. “Now, as I was saying before your explosion, your daughter, albeit one of the smarter kids in this school, is a problem-child.” Drake grit his teeth, staying seated despite the fact that literally every inch of his body was crawling to defend his family. “She got caught today sneaking a rat into one of the boys in her class’s backpack. Explain to me, in civil words may I add, how that is not a problematic action.”

“Well, uhh,” Drake stared down at his lap, tugging on his pink and purple plaid shirt, “She’s not one to sit by and take flak without giving at least some retaliation. Have you, uhh, looked into what spurred her actions?” Drake really did try his hardest to sound sophisticated. It just wasn’t in his nature. Sure, he was cool and collected as Darkwing. He was a loving family man who had quite literally the most perfect family in the world as Drake. He was quite the suave fellow either way. None of that helped him in this scenario, however. Puns wouldn’t get him out of this, and the only instance in which he could even hope to be a wordsmith was when he was cracking jokes.

“We are not of the mindset to blame the victims in this school, Mr. Mallard-McQuack,” Mrs. Strongbill said, staring down the length of her beak to give Drake a look that made him once again feel like this was his own personal trip to the principal’s office.

“If you’re trying to not blame the victim,” Drake started, grasping the armrests of his chair as hard as he could to keep himself firmly seated in his chair, “Then what are you doing blaming my daughter?”

“Your daughter, Mr. Mallard-McQuack, is not the victim in this scenario. She is the one who brought an animal into my school, with the intent to use said animal to harm another student. No matter what he has done to ‘incite’ this wrath of your daughter’s, she is the one who has committed an infraction, not him.” Drake was just about ready to get back up and start yelling at this lady again. Who did she think she was, with her fancy prose and holier-than-thou attitude. Yes, Gosalyn had done something outside the confines of the rules, but Drake was very certain that the boy in question deserved it. They’d had their talks on when it was okay to retaliate and when she should just ignore what was happening, and he knew that some form of bullying had gone on to spur this reaction.

“She has spirit,” Drake said through gritted teeth. “She has a spirit that cannot be beaten down by the bullying that you and her teachers turn the other cheek to.” Drake stopped himself, and it was a hard stop. He was ready to lash out again, to tell her that his daughter deserved more than what she was getting at this school, and he had half a mind to move her to a school where they’d actually take care of her. A school where he wouldn’t have to stress every time he dropped her off that she’d come home with a detention slip, a black-eye, and the news that the one who started the fight got off scott-free. But no, instead, Drake slumped back into his seat and said, “My daughter is not a problem-child, Mrs. Strongbill.” His words were sharp, but he left them simply at that.

“Despite what you may think, Mr. Mallard-McQuack, your opinions of your child do not dictate what is fact. Need I remind you of the times she has gotten in actual fights? Or the time that she walked out of class with another student? What about the time that she ripped another student’s assignment to shreds? I could go on, but I’m sure I’ve said quite enough.” That was it. Drake wasn’t just going to sit there while she threw all this slander on his daughter’s name. He’d tried Launchpad’s tactic of being nice to the ‘scary principal lady’ so that she’d go easy on him, but he wasn’t going to sit by for one more second of her insulting his little pumpkin.

“She has gotten in fights in which the other children have hit her first. When Launchpad and I confronted you and your god-awful administration about it, you said there was nothing you can do. She took Honker out of class with her because the other kids wouldn’t leave the two of them alone, and the teacher did absolutely nothing about it. She ripped up an assignment because that child, a real problem-child mind you, had forcefully copied it from her friend. My daughter might not go about things in the conventional sense, but everything she does is to protect herself and those around her.” Drake hadn’t realized that he’d stood up again until he realized that he had been pounding his fist on the meticulously organized desk of the principal. He was beyond the point of caring, however.

“Mr. Mallard-McQua---”

“Where is my daughter? Her and I are leaving, and there will be no arguments from you.” Drake stormed towards the door, not even trying to hide his pure, unadulterated rage at this point. After so many times the school had failed his little girl, they were trying to turn everything around on her and on his and LP’s parenting.

“Very well, Mr. Mallard-McQuack, but she is not coming back to this school until next week. The lady at the desk will be able to give you the paperwork for her suspension, which I do hope you understand.” Her voice was grating on Drake’s nerves. He slammed the door to her office open, ready to just storm out without another word.

Of course, classic Drake, he couldn’t just walk away without confronting her further. “I hope you understand that I’m taking her to go get ice cream when we leave, and she’ll learn so much more hanging out at the mansion for a week than she ever will here!” Drake smiled a little, proud that the words that had escaped his mouth were not his initial thought of, ‘I hope you understand that you’re stupid.’

Drake stormed up to the desk, paused for a second to collect himself, reminding himself that this nice duck at the desk was not the one that he was furious with, and he said, “I’m here to pick up Gosalyn Mallard-McQuack. And I’m here to pick up her suspension papers.”

The duck gave a solemn nod, no doubt having heard most of the discourse from the office, and she said, “I hope you two enjoy your ice cream day. She’s already sitting right outside the office.” She handed Drake the papers, which he promptly folded up and shoved in his shirt pocket.

He walked out of the office doors with a triumphant, “C’mon muffin, it’s ice cream time!”

“I’m not in trouble?” She asked, looking up at him with a hesitant smile on her face.

“Of course you’re not. Little girls who are in trouble don’t get ice cream, now do they?” His smile was wider than it’d ever been as he scooped her up in his arms, despite her protests that she was old enough to walk.

“Darn,” she said, once her giggling protests had stopped, “And I had all this time to brainstorm excuses that I don’t even get to use.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Gos, you don’t need silly excuses with me and LP. If you’re in the right, we’ll defend you. If you’re in the wrong, your excuses will never work.” Drake smiled down at the little angel that was in his arms, his heart just about ready to explode from the love he held for her. “Now let me call your dad and see if we can’t get him to meet us for some celebration ice cream.”

[pennywisethedancingclownofderry]

My Thoughts on the Ninjago Fandom

Okay so I've been in the Ninjago fandom a long time and in that time I haven't really socialised with anyone, just because I'm not really a social person. (But if you want to, please come and talk to me, I'm shy.)

However, on occasion I do come across discourse within the fandom, though less so nowadays. I don't know whether that is because there is less of it (though I kinda doubt this) or whether I'm no longer actively watching it.

Either way, it's kinda sad that, in a fandom that only a few years ago was considered one of the only discourse free fandoms, there is so much goddamn bickering.

At the end of the day some of you need to grow up and stop attacking people over what is essentially a children's TV show about legos.

I am not saying that you don't have a right or a responsibility to call people out on toxic and damaging behaviour, because you do. But some of the things that you lot go off over is ridiculous.

While I haven't really spoken to anyone within the fandom for years, I can still honestly say that I miss the days before the fandom was just a puddle of angst. Honestly, while I don't remember it entirely, I'm pretty sure it all started with the greenflame war that happened around Christmas time a few years back. While, at the time, I remember being mildly amused yet also perturbed by the behaviour of various fandom members at the time, I never thought it'd give rise to this.

So my take away from it all is that people need to grow up and think about what the consequences will be for their online actions in regard to themselves or others. I am not in any way saying that I myself am not guilty of a similar thing, nor trying to impress upon you some kind of holier than thou attitude. I just ask that people think about what they're saying before they say it and that they cut out all the infantile rubbish.

Yes, I am referring to that goddamn block list. In all honesty it reads like a 12 year old kid asking all their friends to stop talking to someone because they don't like them. It's bullying and it is greatly damaging. Deliberate exclusion is a form of bullying in that you are isolating someone socially because of something they ship!

While greenflame does have it's issues and I, personally do not ship it. There are better ways to go about it! Tumblr has a blacklist function! Block the bloody tag if you don't want to see it. Block the users themselves if you want. But don't put them on a list like some kind of wanted criminal!

The fact that people are now leaving the fandom because of this is ridiculous. It is bullying and quite frankly, while I don't know how old any of you perpetrators are, you're acting like a group of 12 year Olds with your mob mentality. Grow up.

Thanks to anyone who read all that. I apologise for all the "goddamns" and "bloody's", in order to properly convey my feelings on the subject I wished to use profanity, but was trying to keep it somewhat clean.

-pennywisethedancingclownofderry

[pennswoodsman]

It’s like coming out of the closet.

As a cannabis user for the past 2 decades, the last 2 years have been revolutionary. I got high for the first time with my friend Bill back in 1992. I got drunk for the first time with my friend John around the same time. I got violently ill with alcohol but I had a blast with cannabis. I knew almost right away that cannabis was going to be my intoxicant of choice. This left me with a major stigma, of course. I had to spend the next 24 years not sure how people would react to my choice of getting intoxicated to relax at night. I got a lot of shit from a whole lot of people. People who said I “did drugs”. Effectively putting me on the same level as a heroin or Crystal meth abuser. In college, being a cannabis user meant that I sometimes ended up meeting actual junkies. I had absolutely nothing in common with these people other than we enjoyed a schedule 1 drug. Mine was less dangerous than alcohol while theirs was the worst of the worst. Yet, we ended up in the same circle due to me not being able to purchase it any other way. I hated that. I resented that. 

Things like making friends always had the possibility of being judged, scoffed at and looked at with total scorn. At West Chester and Ferrum, I used to attend parties full of drunken idiots, but often got dirty looks from people for being the one smoking a bowl instead of drinking. I was generally banned from smoking in someone’s house, which I totally get. It is illegal and they don’t want to get in trouble. Ferrum also had a “zero tolerance drug policy”. Which meant you would get in just as much trouble for a joint than you would for heroin.  At least on paper. Drinking, of course, was totally normal and could take place right in the open. 

On many occasions, I have been made to feel shame by someone who loves to drink by the implication that their way of getting intoxicated was better than mine, theirs was fun and harmless, where as mine was evil and dangerous. a few examples come to mind. One was my best friend’s brother in law’s ex wife.  She was a major drinker and all her stories on Facebook revolved around her getting totally trashed at pubs every night  or being so hung over the following day she could barely function. One time I suggested switching to cannabis and she got ridiculously offended with a “I don’t do that shit.  I might like to drink, but I don’t touch drugs!!” This is a typical response (not to mention ironic as she is now a crystal meth addict). Another time I was at a pub with 2 friends of Bill’s near his old apartment. Bill had left to do something so I was hanging out with these other 2.  One of them was a single woman named Erin. She was really attractive and I was really doing my best to work up the nerve to try to engage her in conversation. The problem was she and the guy were both big drinkers and all of their stories were about drinking. Literally. I was waiting for the subject to change to a topic I could add something too.  But it never presented itself. So, even though I knew it could backfire, I brought up stories of mine about cannabis. I stopped telling stories revolving around it’s use alone ages ago, but I wanted to fit in, and get her attention. They both seemed less than impressed but didn’t say anything. The following day I was talking to Bill on the phone and he told me his buddy said I was “totally sweating Erin” which was true. But, she was really turned off by my use of cannabis and how I “kept bringing it up”. Meanwhile I was all “Say whaaaa?!” When I say all of their stories that night were about drinking, I mean there was literally not a single story they told that wasn’t about drinking, yet I was the weirdo druggie who wouldn’t stop telling boring stories about getting the reefer madness. 

In my experience, it was usually women who judged me the most about it. Or at least their judgement is the one I heard about the most (maybe because I didn’t give a fuck what the dudes thought, as I wasn’t trying to date them). Even Tammy said back in the early 2000s that it was something that was fine to “experiment” with when you’re a teen, but once you “grow up” you give it up. I asked her what was that based on, she just shrugged and said it’s just how she feels.  Fair enough, but it still struck me as illogical as the thing you do as a “grown up” is far more dangerous, and tends to make you act way more childish when intoxicated.  But, again, there was no arguing with “marra-jah-wanna is an illegal drug and alcohol is a time honored way to socialize”.  The worst of those arguments for me was with my buddy Anthony’s wife Colleen. She has open contempt for cannabis users and had no problem getting in my face about it at every opportunity (in addition to getting in my face about Israel and how Jews are criminals, then flipping out if you respond by bringing up Northern Ireland. But that’s a rant for another day). Her contempt reached a whole new level at a Halloween party at my house back in 2004. I was talking to someone else about growing my own cannabis. She started to get in my face about being a “drug user” and how it’s destroying society. I asked her how was I hurting anyone by smoking it on my back porch at night after work? She started to say that it hurts children because when I buy it from the dealer, I’ll smoke up with him right in front of his children (which I sure as fuck have never done), that it changes people’s personality for the worse (but alcohol did not, according to her) it destroys families and in order to get my drugs, it has to be smuggled by evil drug cartels who murder innocent people “because of people like YOU”. When I tried to say that’s why cannabis should be legal, taking the power out of the hands of the evil cartels, she laughed and said “that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard”. She has a brother who is a criminal. Among many other things he did illegally, he sold weed.  His adolescent daughters ended up in foster care with her and Anthony due to him being in prison at the time. To me, this was the worst of anecdotal evidence. She seemed to think all cannabis users are guilty this happened. Not that her brother was a total sociopath. That was 15 years ago and she is one of those people that I’m willing to bet you would still double down on this sentiment, as she pretty much will never admit to being wrong. Even once various states began to legalize it’s use and almost everything I said would happen happened (drug cartels losing huge amounts of money, tax revenue going to help social programs, victimless crimes not wasting the police’s time, and no, it’s not going to result in everyone getting stoned 24/7, for a few examples) it all didn’t matter. She sure as hell doesn’t have to listen to anything a stupid druggie says. As we’re all a bunch of doped up liars who only care about our own pleasure. All that being said, there have been plenty of men who have judged me harshly too.  I always suspected my old buddy Mike and I drifted apart due to his attitude about cannabis (among other things). Although it’s kind of funny that his wife enjoys it, gave it up after college because it’s illegal. Then he was shocked when she said she would resume using it when it’s fully legal. 

This is all not to mention the shit my mother used to give me about it. She was the only one who was worse than Colleen...at least towards me. 

Other examples:

My ex-GF Nina one time was openly showing contempt when I made some remark about still smoking in my 50s.  She said “wait, you are planning to still be smoking weed in your 50s?!” I was all “Yea.  Why not? Why does that matter?!” She responded with something to the extent of “You never plan to grow up?!” This was at the end of our relationship and she started off the relationship with not caring about cannabis use but by the end she was always giving me shit about it. To a point where I was uncomfortable even bringing it up, because it would result in a long boring holier than thou rant about how bad it is, grow ups don’t use it, etc. I was not upset when we broke up.

My Ex-GF Lisa wasn’t too bad about it in that she didn’t bring it up very often. I just promised I would never be high when we were together, a promise I always kept. Her late father had spent time in prison on Moonshining charges and she admitted that there wasn’t that much of a difference.  But alas, it’s a “drug” and alcohol is legal. Therefore one is immoral and one is just fine. Very cut and dry.

When my soon to be ex-wife was having an affair with he who shall not be named, he used my cannabis usage as another way to show my inferiority to him.  He was a dysfunctional alcoholic, but what I did was only for hippie idiots so therefore it was only logical to have open contempt for me.

My late mother used to referred to my father’s cannabis use as our family’s “dirty little secret”. Very effectively attaching shame and guilt to it’s use...which was totally her intention. She also always referred to it as “dope” and “drugs”. She would always accuse me of being high even when I wasn’t. She would go out of her way to try to catch me (if I was coming home late, she would wait up, even if my friends were with me, so she could tell me my “eyes look funny” or “I’m acting funny”. I’ll leave it at that, as I have a lot of issues with my late mother and the way she treated me like a criminal for cannabis use.

But, it’s dramatic policy change in our country has led to a dramatic attitude change. Last week, I got attitude from a woman who was a drinker who acted like I was a druggie for owning a medical card but didn’t drink, but this attitude is becoming the exception rather than the rule. Before, I couldn’t even add it to my online dating profile because I had to always assume it was an instant turn off...even though it would be something that they would find out about eventually.  Thank freakin’ god.

[tenebris-melodiam]

Stefano Valentini x Reader: Facade - Chapter 10

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Pairing: Stefano Valentini x Reader/Female Protagonist (+18)

Warnings: Strong language, mild sexual themes

Current Time: October 14th, 2016

=2=

The water was cold against your skin—it hadn’t been that way whenever you first submerged yourself within your bathtub that dreary morning, but the time you had spent in there had been lost on you. You weren’t aware that your flesh was now wrinkled and pale due to the dropping water temperature, and you most certainly weren’t aware that you were now fifteen minutes late to work. Right now, all that mattered was the silence and solace the water allowed you to experience, and the respite that the darkness beneath the water’s surface brought you. How long had you been submerged now? It wasn’t like that mattered.

You opened your eyes for only a moment beneath the water, seeing the shimmering surface only inches above you. The real world was out there—a cruel, unkind, and unforgiving world that wanted nothing more than to devour you, body and soul, and spit out what little remained. You weren’t ready to go back out into that world; not yet. You exhaled a tiny bit of air through your nose, feeling your chest ache with the need the breathe as you watched a pillar of bubbles rise to the surface of the water. You closed your eyes once again, letting the darkness consume your vision with no resistance; it was comforting, it was quiet, and it was welcoming. As the seconds passed, the aching within your chest only continued to worsen as your lungs cried out for air, your heart throbbing desperately within your ribcage and echoing within your ears.

It was only when the darkness that filled your vision was suddenly defiled by the image of your best friend, smiling at you with eyes glazed over and blood smeared across his gashed face, that you immediately drew yourself out from underneath the water and took in a large gulp of air; you brought your arms around your body, trying to find some form of comfort in your own embrace as the all-too-familiar tingling sensation began near the bridge of your nose and your vision began to blur with tears. You embraced yourself harder, your nails digging into your skin as you sobbed through clenched teeth—there was no escaping the image that you had just seen. Each and every time you closed your eyes, you either saw the vision that had been engraved into your mind, or heard the sickening sounds that you experienced that horrible, traumatic night several weeks prior.

You finally released yourself from your embrace, bringing the palm of your hand up to your eyes and rubbing at them as you tried to calm yourself down. You stared down at the water beneath you, watching as the remaining tears dripped from the bottom of your chin and onto the surface; you could see how puffy and red your eyes were in your reflection, and you sighed heavily as you reached beneath the water and tugged the plug out, finally allowing the water to drain. You stared at the slowly receding water for a few moments, then brought yourself out of the tub and grabbed a towel from the rack before wrapping it around your upper body. It was only now that you saw the time on the clock beside your sink, alerting you that you were now nearly twenty minutes late to work; you did nothing but bat your eyes slowly at it and make your way into your bedroom to begin getting dressed.

Despite the dress code at the Krimson Post being business casual, you threw on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, not even bothering to put on a bra—you weren’t anywhere near in the mood to care today, and honestly, you didn’t even want to go into the office. However, you were forcing yourself through the day, just as you had each and every day for the previous month. You walked back into your bathroom and half-assedly ran a brush through your wet hair, not even bothering to attempt drying it. Today was going to be a long one, and you weren’t looking forward to it one bit.

=2=

You hated the city streets now. The roaring of cars recklessly racing down the road stabbed at your ears like the dullest of knives, making the sound all the more excruciating and torturous to listen to. You tugged your hood up over your head, hoping to muffle the noise at least a little bit, and then shoved your hands into the pocket that was on the front of your hoodie. When you stopped at a crosswalk where several other pedestrians were waiting to cross, you looked up at the large building that was right in front of you; your lovely office building, the renowned Krimson Post, loomed over the city like a giant threatening to consume all in it’s path. It was one of the largest buildings in the entire city, housing an impressive sixty-eight stories from entrance floor to executive office. What all those floors held you would never be able to remember or explain, but all you knew was that the sheer size of the building was highly unnecessary.

Your attention was drawn away from the building as the people around you began to move, and you gave a quiet sigh as you followed them across the street. Once you were safely across, you reluctantly tugged the hood off of your head and made your way into the lobby of the gargantuan building.

“(Name).”

You stopped immediately in your tracks, rolling your eyes at the sound of your name. You had only been in the building for literally five seconds, and someone was already addressing you. You exhaled deeply, then turned to see none other than Matt Hades, your boss and the esteemed owner of the Krimson Post, striding towards you. Just seeing that greying crew cut and white-laced boxed beard made your blood boil, but it was his eyes that made your anger threaten to spill over. Azure eyes that had been glazed over by unhealthy amounts of fame and greed—eyes that saw people not as people, but rather as objects used to make profit. You had disliked him from the very moment you met him, but you put up with it due to the pay that he offered for your services; you couldn’t deny that he paid well, though his attitude was horrendous.

Your (color) eyes followed him until he stood directly in front of you, hands behind his back in a posture that screamed holier-than-thou, then blinked slowly as he looked you over from head to toe. It was evident that he wasn’t happy with your current attire, or rather, he wasn’t happy with you in general.

“Come.”

Without so much as a second passing before turning on his heel, he was already striding down the polished flooring towards the elevator at the end of the lobby. You scowled at the way he spoke to you, much like a master would speak to their dog, but reluctantly followed him into the elevator—it truly was a wonder how such a shallow man like him was allowed to have such immense success.

The ride in the elevator itself was one that you weren’t fond of. The silence was deafening, and you could practically feel the judging stare of the man beside you as you kept your eyes glued to the floor number; it was only when you felt the elevator stop that you peeled your eyes away from the floor number and instead placed them on the office now within your view as the elevator doors opened. Large, lavishly decorated, and just what you’d expect from such a materialistic man; throwing your current thoughts out of your mind, you followed your boss inside his office, watching as he took a greatly over-exaggerated seat upon his chair. He then gestured for you to sit down in one of the two chairs that he had sitting in front of his desk, and you obliged without a single word. It was silent between the two of you for a moment, then Hades sighed deeply, leaned back in his chair, and stared at you while he spoke.

“I’m going to cut right to the chase, (Name). I can’t keep allowing this kind of behavior from you—we have a dress code here, which you’re obviously not caring enough to follow, and your work has been, well, less than stellar.”

You followed his right hand as he laid out several clipped columns upon his desk, which you immediately identified as your own; Bloodied Body, Mourning Hearts, the column you had written about the death of James King shortly after his death was publicly announced. Krimson Killer: Malicious Psychopath, or Maliciously Misunderstood, a column you had created based on various statements from people you had interviewed over the course of several months. Several other smaller columns that you had written came into view, but your eyes stopped upon the one that had started it all: Critiquing Critics: Art Truly Is in the Eye of the Beholder, the column that had called out the negative criticism and hatred that Stefano’s artwork had received all those many months ago, and in turn, led to everything you had experienced with him now—a year’s worth of work, and those were only the ones that were published by the Krimson Post. You, of course, had other columns you had attempted to write, but they hadn’t been deemed good enough by Hades to publish.

“These have been laid out in order of least traffic generated to most traffic generated. Obviously the one that that contained the drama between you and the other journalists was the one that people enjoyed the most… after all, everyone enjoys a good bout of drama every now and again.”

You glanced up at Hades, seeing a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Your drama had generated traffic, which was something that, in turn, led Hades into the possession of more income. He didn’t even seem to care about how maliciously you were attacked by the other critics after the column had been publicly published. Looking upon it now, Hades should have known the backlash you would receive if the article had been published; no… he knew the backlash you would receive once that article went public, and he didn’t give a damn. You watched as the smirk faded from his lips, and his eyebrows furrowed in what you could only assume was his best attempt at looking concerned for you.

“Look, (Name)… I’ll be honest with you, here. Aside from your very first article, everything that we’ve published from you just hasn’t been up to par. The traffic your columns generate is mediocre at best, and I know you’ve got so much more potential hidden away inside you. I mean-“

He stopped, and he gave a small chuckle.

“-you’re literally dating the world’s most controversial artist! Surely you’ve heard him talk about the way he makes his work, or at the very least seen how he does it, or-“

“Don’t you dare bring Stefano into this. I’m not using him as some means to generate… traffic, as you like to call it.”

He immediately stopped in his tracks, knowing that he had misspoken. He stayed silent for a few moments, and then cleared his throat before leaning forward in his chair and speaking once again.

“(Name), you’re one of my most beloved journalists here. Even though your articles don’t generate as much- perhaps I should stop saying that, hmm? Anyway, I took a liking to your first article because you, unlike other journalists, dared to fight back against the flood. But, it seems as though you’ve lost your drive. Your columns are well researched, yes, but they lack the individuality that you displayed within your first column. That’s why we’ve only published three of your columns out of all the ones you’ve submitted.”

You felt your right forefinger twitch, followed shortly by the right corner of your lip, which threatened to bend downwards into a scowl. It was obvious that Hades wasn’t good at lying at all; he was a businessman first and foremost, which meant he could strike amazing deals and provide half-truths without so much as a twinge of guilt for doing so, but whenever it came down to interpersonal relationships, he was extremely lackluster in his ability to lie. You meant nothing to him—you were nothing more than a pawn he used to further his company and increase the size of his pockets.

“Alongside the missing individuality and drive, I’m worried about your own wellbeing, (Name). I know you’ve suffered a horrible loss, what with the death of your best friend, but it’s been almost a month since that happened. Time has to move forward, and you have to separate your work life from your personal life. Hey, I have an idea… maybe you could use the experience of what happened that night to write something about the current underlying crime issues in Krimson City, hmm? After all, you’ve been through a traumatic experience personally because of it now, and it would give you a great opportunity to-“

“You know what? I don’t have to take this from you anymore.”

You rose to your feet from your chair, turning on your heel as you began to head in the direction of the door.

“Excuse you, I’m not done with you yet! (Name), don’t-“

“You may not be done with me, Hades, but I’m done with you. First you try to make my significant other into some kind of personal controversy generator, then you feign concern about my wellbeing. Not only do you feign it, but you try to make me use my best friend’s death as a means to create some heart-wrenching story that will draw in millions of readers. I sat on the sidewalk, holding him in my arms as he bled to death, Hades. I watched the light drain from his eyes, and I watched as they put him into the ground a few days later. I’m not going to use my goddamn best friend, who did nothing but spend every minute of every day trying to make me smile, who died because of some asshole who wasn’t paying attention and didn’t even bother to stop, who died because of me and my negligence, as a profit generator!”

You curled your fingers into the palm of your hand as you clenched your first, tears freely dripping from the bottom of your chin and disappearing into either your hoodie or the carpet flooring of the office. Your teeth were clenched painfully within your jaw, your eyes boring a hole right between Hades’ eyes as you stared him down with almost murderous intent. It was incredible how one man could be so ignorant to the painful emotions of life, and how he could be so hellbent on making profit off of the misery of others. You swallowed hard, your throat stinging from your outburst only moments earlier; it was only then that you saw Hades sigh deeply, and lean back in his chair.

“I know how he died, (Name). It wasn’t because of you, either. He was hit by a driver who vanished into the night… and you had nothing to do with any of that. Honestly, hearing what you just said has reassured me that the choice I’m making is the right one.”

Your eyes were drawn towards his hand, which was placing a small, official-looking letter on his desk. He scooted it towards you slightly, and then released another heavy sigh as he placed his hands upon his midsection and nodded in the direction of the paper.

“I’m issuing you an ultimatum, (Name). I’m not doing this off-record either, hence why I’m giving it to you on an official document. Ever since the accident, it’s been clear that your mental health has been degrading. You’re late every day that you’re supposed to come in to the office, ignoring dress code, and producing work that just isn’t up to par with the skills I know you have. I have taken the liberty of setting up an appointment with the psychologist this company is insured with in your name; with that being said, my ultimatum is this: either you go to the appointment tonight at seven, or I will be forced to remove you from this company.”

He rose to his feet slowly, being sure to push his chair underneath his desk after doing so, and then grabbed the paper within his fingers before walking over to you. He took your hand, placing the document within it before giving your shoulder a gentle pat; as much as you hated it, you were already mentally exhausted and just wanted this encounter to be over with.

“I wasn’t lying about you being a good journalist, (Name). You have the potential to become the best journalist this company employs… and I do want to help you get there, but you just have to heal a little bit first. Please think it over.”

With that, Hades stepped out of his office and ventured towards the elevator, which you eventually heard shut and take your boss further down towards the lower floors of the building. Once he was gone, you gave a single, painfully frustrated cry and threw the document out of your hand before sinking to your knees onto the carpet of the office. First you had lost Vincent, and now you had to worry about potentially losing your job.

The world, which was already devoid of the light that your best friend brought into it, was seemingly becoming nothing but darker.

=2=

“Eat, amore mio… you look as though you haven’t eaten in days.”

You felt Stefano’s hand run over the small of your back, and you could feel his gaze locked onto you as you stared at the plate of cut fruit he had placed on the table in front of you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to eat, or allow yourself to simply wither away; your mind was straddling on the fence, slowly drifting back and forth over each decision. You could hear Stefano’s voice continue speaking beside you, but you couldn’t comprehend what he was saying as you gently tapped the flats of your thumbs together; your mind was focused on your encounter with Hades earlier that day, and something was gnawing away at your mind that you desperately needed to speak about.

“Have you ever wanted to kill someone?”

Whatever Stefano had been saying at the time, he immediately halted and stayed silent; though you weren’t looking at him, you knew he was looking at you with concern. You expected nothing less from him, but you knew that you could talk to him about anything, and this was something that you simply couldn’t let eat away at you.

“When I was in Hades’ office earlier today… and when I was sitting in front of his desk… every word that left his lips made this unquenchable anger grow inside of me. It felt like my entire body was on fire, even though I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of any kind of outward emotion. The more he spoke, the more I wanted to just lean over his desk and feel his throat beneath my fingers…”

You moved your hands, flexing your fingers as you spoke to replicate what it would be like to strangle something within them.

“It would have been so easy. Now that I’m talking about it, I want to feel awful for having such a desire, but… I just can’t bring myself to fully feel that way. It’s awful…”

“Awful because your mind is justifying your thoughts?”

“No… awful that someone like him is alive.”

You rubbed at your nose, the uncomfortable stinging building up once again as you felt tears threaten to spill over. You hated yourself for crying so much, but you couldn’t stop it. You brought your forehead to rest upon the palms of your hands, your nails digging into your scalp as you stared at the floor of Stefano’s studio; you sniffed, several tears finally dripping from your eyes and spotting the tile beneath you.

“It’s so goddamn unfair that such an inconsiderate, unfeeling, greedy, selfish, egotistical bastard can be alive and thriving. What makes him so fucking special? Why is someone like him allowed to live, but someone who spent every day of his life trying to make people happy, who brought nothing but light into the world, and who lived to care for others was taken out of it? Why is someone like Hades allowed the gift of life? Why the hell wasn’t someone like him taken instead of Vincent!?”

You sobbed deeply after crying out the last part of your sentence, only to completely break down moments later when you felt Stefano’s arms wrap around you and pull you against his body. You buried your face in his suit, your fingers curling into the fabric and clutching it tightly as you sobbed deeply against him; you could feel your lover’s fingers digging into your body as he attempted to pull you closer to him than you already were, and for whatever reason, this loving attempt at comfort made you sob all the more. What you didn’t know, however, was the reason that Stefano was holding you so tightly.

You had wanted to kill.

Thus far, you had been kept innocent and clean of his misdeeds, and on the one hand, he desired to keep it that way. He originally never wanted you to find out about how he created his artwork, but now his mind was beginning to question whether or not this was the best plan of action—though you hadn’t gone through with your thoughts, you said that you wanted to kill. And, on top of that, your mind was justifying your potential actions and not allowing you to feel fully guilty for what you felt; the thought of you becoming a killer was far more enticing than the artist would ever dare admit aloud, and imagining your euphoria upon achieving your first kill was far more than alluring. If he could somehow track down your best friend’s killer, how would you look upon delivering divine judgement to him? What beautiful, bloodlust-driven expression would you make as you crushed his windpipe, or cut him open like he was nothing more than the pig that he was? Imagining such a scenario made the murderous itch within him beg to be scratched. He could see your figure in his mind clear as day: your body illuminated by the perfect backlighting, eyes cold and unfeeling as blood that was not your own glistened upon your fair skin.

The image alone made the itch dig under his skin, burying itself into his heart where it knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore it for long. However, he would have to force himself to ignore it, at least until you weren’t around. For now, he held you against him and ran his slender fingers through your hair as he listened to you attempt to stifle your sobs. You had ignited the fire of inspiration within him, but he wanted you to be yourself again before creating whatever new art piece came of this inspiration; after all, you were his muse, and it wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t in the mood to enjoy his artwork as much as he did. He looked down at you, watching as you brought the back of your hand to your eyes and rubbed them gently; it would seem you had finally managed to calm yourself down with his help, and you gave a quiet sniff before glancing up at him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to drag you down with me. I hate how much I’ve been crying lately…”

“Don’t be sorry, amore mio. I’m here for you through anything.”

Stefano leaned over slightly, which made a quiet, discomforted whine pass your lips; when he returned to his normal position, you took notice of the small fruit wedge that he was holding in front of your eyes. You sighed softly—despite not entirely feeling up to eating, you took the wedge between your middle and forefinger and brought it to your lips, taking a small nibble every now and again. It comforted you that Stefano was being such a sweetheart in your time of need, despite the fact that you hadn’t been giving him as much attention ever since the accident. You swallowed the fruit that you had within your maw, then gave a quiet huff of breath before beginning to speak.

“I’m going to go see the therapist. I wasn’t going to originally, but I can’t afford to get fired from my job. I also don’t want our relationship to suffer any more than it already has, and Vincent wouldn’t want me to stay like this the rest of my life. The best way to honor him would be to get help and live the best life that I can, just like he always wanted me to.”

Stefano leaned down, and you felt his lips press against the top of your head in a tender kiss. It made the smallest hint of a smile creep across your face, and you gently tapped his thigh with your hand before sitting upright.

“As much as I miss Vincent… and will continue to miss him, the best way to get back at Hades is to get help and make a full recovery. Once I become the best damn journalist this city has ever seen, he’ll regret ever wanting to get rid of me in the first place.”

You looked down at the watch upon your wrist, seeing that it was nearing six in the evening. You would have to leave now if you wanted to get to the appointment with the therapist on time; despite not wanting to leave your lover’s side, you gave a soft sight and rose to your feet. Stefano stood up alongside you, grabbing your hands within his own and bringing them to his lips to place tender kisses upon them.

“Si, amore mio. After your appointment, I’d enjoy it if you returned here. Perhaps you might stay the night? Of course… that’s only if you feel like doing so.”

Admittedly, you hadn’t been up for doing much of anything intimate with Stefano ever since the accident. You had shut yourself off from him, aside from the occasional phone call (such calls were always initiated by him, mostly to check up on you and make sure you were alright). However, you knew that in order to heal, you had to step up and see this therapist first, and then allow yourself to move on in every way that you knew how. Spending the night with Stefano would be one of those steps towards recovery, even if it seemed silly to most people. You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, and then leaned in and pressed your lips against his own; you lingered there for a moment, enjoying the physical connection between the two of you, and then finally pulled away as a small smile donned your face.

“I’d enjoy that, Stefano.”

In truth, the idea of being held by him and touched by him again was something that was becoming more enjoyable with each moment you spent thinking about it. You had experienced little to no human contact in the past month, and you were feeling the need to be comforted physically—who better to provide such comfort than Stefano? You felt him grab one of your hands a bit tighter, releasing the other as he began to gently pull you forward and lead you towards the entrance of his studio; once there, he pulled you close and gave a kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll be waiting right here for you, amore mio.”

=2=

‘Goddamn, it’s cold…’

You pulled your hood over your head as you wandered down the streets of Krimson City for the third time that day, your teeth chattering slightly within your maw; it had been years since the city had been this cold so early on into the winter season, but you were dealing with it as best as you could. You had to admit that you regretted putting on only a hoodie before heading in to the office earlier in the morning, but there wasn’t much you could do about it now; you tugged your trembling hand from within the confines of your hoodie pocket, squinting slightly in an attempt to see the address that had been written down on the paper Hades had given you that morning.

1259 Ruben Street, Suite 101.

You looked up from the paper for a moment, seeing that you were currently on Adamsdale Avenue; you stopped walking, making a mental map of the city within your mind as you attempted to picture just where Ruben Street was in relation to where you currently were. If you were remembering right, it was the next street north, which meant the traffic light you were en route towards was the marker for the street you were looking for.

‘This would have been so much easier if I didn’t leave my phone in my apartment… I’m so stupid.’

You sighed deeply before continuing on your trek, folding up the paper and putting it back into your pocket as you trudged onwards towards the traffic light. You heard a deep rumble from overhead, and tilted your head back just in time to see a flash of light dash across the dark, cloud-riddled sky.

‘Shit… and I forgot to check the damn weather, too? Everything is just going right today, isn’t it?’

You furrowed your brows, clenching your fist around the paper within your pocket as you drew nearer to the traffic light. As soon as you got to the crosswalk, you glanced up and saw that you were indeed at Ruben Street; this relieved you slightly as it meant your wandering was nearly over, and you attempted to locate the building that you were supposed to enter on the other side of the crosswalk. Unfortunately, you were unable to see the building numbers due to being across the street, and you sighed as you waited alongside several other city-goers for the crosswalk to allow you to pass safely. Once the little man beckoned you to cross, you hastily made your way over to the other side of the street and began scanning for numbers.

1257.

So the building you were looking for was the next one over. You gave a small smile, knowing that you were close to finally being able to relax for a moment, and then paced down the sidewalk to the building marked 1259. You glanced down at your watch, seeing that you had about five minutes to spare, and then took a deep breath before opening the door and heading into the building.

Despite being relatively dark on the inside, it was pretty homey. Several antique lamps rested upon the various tables that lined the hallway walls, and an older woman sat behind what appeared to be a receptionist desk a few feet from where you currently stood. You saw a flight of stairs leading upwards on the right side of the receptionist desk, and a little ways past that was an elevator for the handicapped. After relishing in the warmth that that building provided for only a few moments, you made your way forward and gained the attention of the woman sitting behind the desk in the process; she gave you a gentle smile, her eyes dulled with age, but still glistening with genuine care and happiness.

“Good evening, sweetheart. Are you looking for any suite in particular?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m looking for suite 101.”

“Sure thing, sweetie. Head down that hallway right there, and it will be the second door on the right. Let me know if you need anything else at all, okay?”

“I will, ma’am. Thank you very much.”

You managed to give her a small smile, which earned you another one of hers in return. It was nice to meet such a kind woman right after walking in the doors; perhaps this visit wouldn’t be as bad as you originally thought it would be. You padded down the carpeted hallway that the woman had pointed towards, not having to go very far before arriving at the door that she had spoken about; you curled your fingers into your palm and raised your fist to rap gently upon the door, but before you had the chance, it opened to reveal the person that had been residing within.

“Good evening. You must be (First Name) (Last Name), correct?”

The person before you was a young Asian woman, her long, black hair cascading over her shoulders while her earthly-brown eyes wandered your figure. She, unlike like the lady that had been sitting behind the receptionist desk, gave you a smile that felt hollow. It appeared she was attempting to be welcoming, but there was something about her smile that just felt forced, and the way that she looked at you was almost like she was studying you. It was a bit unnerving to say the very least, but you figured it was only because you had just met her and she was trying to get a good feeling for what she was going to be working with. Perhaps her demeanor would change the more the two of you spoke; after all, you would undoubtedly have to return to her for more therapy sessions.

Finally deciding to answer her question, you gave a small nod of your head. She gave a hum of acknowledgment, and then extended her hand forward in a gesture of greeting.

“My name is Yukiko Hoffman. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

=2=

“I know, my darling… I know.”

The darkness of his office was something that he had desperately missed; it had been quite some time since the fickle bird of inspiration had returned to him, and he wasn’t about to let the time he had with it go to waste. He hummed softly as he ran his gloved thumb over the lens of his beloved camera with a feather-light touch, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he saw his own reflection within it.

“It’s been far too long since you and I have created a true masterpiece together… but don’t worry. My beloved (Name) has inspired me to go above and beyond anything I have ever created before, and with enough time, my creation will be fully realized.”

Being ever-so-careful, Stefano placed his camera down upon his desk and walked over to a small easel that housed a large sketchbook upon it; he scowled at whatever previous image he had been doodling upon it, cursing himself for ever believing such a thing would ever surpass the idea that was currently coming into fruition within his mind, and tore the paper away from the book to create a clean page for him to work upon. He grabbed a pencil from the cup that held his drawing utensils on a small stool nearby, then sighed softly to himself before beginning to draw an outline for his latest creation.

“Amore mio… this creation will be my ultimate masterpiece. You’ve given more than this photographer could ever desire to have, and what have I done for you? Niente… but not any longer. My magnum opus will be dedicated to you, my dear (Name)…”

He followed the tip of his pencil with his eye, allowing his heart to guide his strokes across the paper; it was only when he was nearly lost in his own creation that a gentle knock from the entrance to his studio drew him out of his trance, and he had to force himself to stop drawing for the time being. Despite only being partially drawn-out, Stefano had never been more proud of a creation in all the time he had been creating such artistry—but, for now, it would have to wait. He placed his pencil down, softly touching the outline with the tips of his gloved fingers before hastily removing his gloves and placing them down upon his desk. He then withdrew from his office entirely, making sure that the door was locked behind him; he didn’t need you discovering his newest piece of artwork. Not yet.

He walked over to the door, turning the handle and opening it to reveal you; you were partially wet and shivering from how cold it was outside, and you gave him a tiny smile.

“H-hey. Can I come inside? I’m freezing.”

“Of course, mia cara.”

He pressed his back against the door to allow you in, then shut the door behind you once you were inside. He glanced over at the clock in his kitchen, seeing that it was now nine-thirty seven. Had it really been that long since you had left? He had lost track of time once he had begun coming up with his newest creation. He returned his attention to you, seeing that you were simply standing near the doorway to his bedroom and looking at one of the photographs he had hung up on the wall beside the entryway. He could see you trembling due to being cold, and he gave a soft sigh before slowly pacing over behind you and wrapping his arms around your frame. He brought his chin to rest upon your shoulder, and he felt you shudder whenever you felt his breath against the shell of your ear.

“You’re freezing, amore mio. Perhaps taking this off will help…”

He could hear your shuddering breath, and the way your body tensed slightly when the tips of his fingers slipped underneath the ribbing of your hoodie to caress the skin hidden beneath made him all the more eager. Just as you had missed him, he had definitely missed you—and after having such a tantalizing image of you in his mind earlier that day, alongside gaining what he could only describe as a divine form of artistic epiphany because of you, he wanted to express his gratitude in every way that he knew how. He carefully tucked his fingers underneath the bottom of your hoodie, gracefully bringing it over your head and placing it upon the couch before turning you to face him entirely.

Despite having your nude upper body to look at, he avoided it; he wanted to see you, not just your body. He brought his hand upwards, tenderly cupping your cheek within the palm while his other hand brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your eyes.

“Tell me if I’m going too far, mia cara…”

He saw a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, and you gave a nod of your head. He felt your hand come to rest on his chest, and it wasn’t too long after that before he felt the button on his jacket come undone.

“I want this, Stefano. We can talk about my session in the morning… but right now, I want to be held by you. I just… I need you.”

Before he could respond, he felt your lips press against his own in a kiss that was undoubtedly filled with desire. He felt your hand come to rest on the back of his head, and he shuddered upon feeling your fingers delve into his hair and your nails gently scratch at his skin. He placed a hand on the small of your bare back, bringing you against his body as he returned the kiss with growing hunger.

What the night would bring would leave you tired and breathless, but the comfort of being held in your lover’s arms and hearing him whisper sweet nothings into your ear after such an intimate session was more than you could ever ask for.

=2=

R. B.

RE: STEM Candidate #10044

Name: (First Name) (Last Name)

Despite initial concerns about this Candidate’s mental health after their traumatic experience, the Candidate has proven to be relatively resilient. After examining the live feed from the Candidate’s ‘therapy’ session, and consulting with Dr. Hoffman, we have come to the sound conclusion that the Candidate is a suitable one. Though they were prone to emotional outbursts throughout the session (mostly small bouts of sobbing or irritation), such actions can easily be remedied upon first entry into STEM. Other than dealing with the mental issues set in place by the actions of our own foundation against their close friend, this Candidate displayed no significant psychological issues or detrimental illness. Their background check shows both adoptive parents to be deceased, and the only other person to potentially raise concern at their disappearance is also a Candidate to be tested within the coming weeks; should Candidate #10045 pass their profiling as well, the Recruitment Board recommends Candidate #10044 for STEM insertion.

P.S.: Should this Candidate be inserted into STEM, sufficient funds have been set aside to deal with their former employer. Please contact the Administrator directly if you have further questions.

=2=

Author’s Note (1):

-          Amore mio: My love

-          Niente: Nothing

Author’s Note (2): I would like to thank each and every reader that has supported me this far into the story. I’ve hit a milestone of 10 chapters with this upload, alongside another milestone of 60k+ words. This is by far the longest and most intricate story I’ve ever written, and having all of you guys here to support me really means a hell of a lot. I read each and every comment that you guys add to this story, and it’s so wonderful to have such amazing people supporting me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

[knightwingyj]

Little Do You Know Ch 3

               Why, oh why did he think it was a good idea to drink? Conner groaned as his head throbbed. His mouth was dry and stuffed with cotton balls soaked in essence of skunk. Hangovers sucked. He gracelessly flopped on his side and smashed his face into his pillow. His glorious, stupendous, fluffy, wonderful pillow that was always supportive and there for him whenever he needed something to lay on. His bed too. A shrill pierced the air and sent a white-hot ice pick through his brain. Whimpering and trying to ignore the pathetic tears that gathered in the corner of his eyes, Conner threw an arm out, hand groping the nightstand for his phone. Stupid alarm. His fingers finally found it and the shrieking was silenced. Sighing with relief, he rolled onto his back with his arm resting over his eyes. He didn’t think he drank that much last night. He only had his usual scotch. Twice…and some of Markus’…and all those shots from North’s game. Maybe he had more than he thought, and he didn’t even get his reward.

               The alarm went off a second time. Goddamn it, he thought he had turned that shit off. “Alright, shut the fuck up.” Conner growled grabbing the device and stabbing the screen with more force than necessary. He’s been spending too much time with Hank. Blessed silence. He just noticed the full glass of water on his night stand that his drunk self forgot to drink last night, along with a bottle of Advil. God bless his drunk self and he popped a couple pills and chugged the water.

               He laid back against his wonderful pillow, trying to find the will to get up for the day. He was so glad it was the weekend. He could go as slow as he wanted and not worry about being late. He was the CFO, he should be able to arrive when he damn well pleased. He really needs to stop hanging out with Hank so much. His potty mouth was getting worse. It took a lot more strength to shower, shave and dress than it should have, but he felt more rejuvenated. After brushing his teeth, twice, he deemed himself ready to take on the day. He opened his bedroom door and nearly jumped out of his skin at Conan standing in the doorway.

               “Jesus Christ, Conan! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” Conner accused hand clutching at his chest.

               “Where were you last night?” Conan questioned.

               Conner’s brow furrowed at the reproachful tone in his brother’s voice. “Why do you need to know?”

               “Where you out drinking with Anderson?”

               “What I do and who I do it with is none of your concern.” He didn’t have the patience to deal with Conan’s holier-than-thou attitude today. He brushed past him and into the hallway, closing the door as best he could around a six-foot two road block.

               “It is when you chose to fraternize with the hired help. It looks bad on the rest of us.” Conner could practically hear Conan’s nose scrapping the ceiling. He whirled around and leveled Conan with a glare that made him pause in his tracks.

               “Hank is more than an employee, he’s my friend, and what I chose to do in my free time is my business. I’ve not done a single thing that could shame the family in any way. I don’t need you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. You’re not my keeper Conan.” He hissed before marching off.

               Conan watched, a little shocked at his outburst. Conner was wrong about one thing; he was his brother’s keeper. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and hit speed dial. “Hey, it’s me. I’ve got a job for you.”

               The headache was practically gone by the time the taxi dropped him off at Hank’s house. Hank’s old, black Buick was parked haphazardly in the driveway and Conner rolled his eyes. He was still wondering what possessed him to let this man drive him anywhere. The single-story building was unassuming with cream siding, decorative clay bricks, and a plain brown front door. He smiled. He could remember one summer during high school when Hank and he repainted the faded and peeling siding, replaced the rotting front door, and power washed the windows. They spent quite a bit of time during those years cleaning up this old house, so much so that it felt more like home to Conner than the manor.

               Turning the key in the lock, the front door opened smoothly, and Conner was greeted by a mountain of fur and a large, wet tongue. “Alright, Sumo, alright.” Conner laughed pushing the Saint Bernard off him and giving him a good scratch behind the ears. “Good morning to you too.”

               He wrestled himself passed the massive dog into the house and was mildly impress. It was a lot cleaner than the last time he was here, minus a couple of empty beer bottles on the coffee table. “You hungry boy?” Moving into the kitchen, Conner retrieve the kibble from the cabinet and poured some into Sumo’s food bowl and gave him fresh water. Sumo munched happily while Conner busied himself with the dirty dishes in the sink, giving them a good scrub and placing them in the dishwasher. An empty pizza box was tossed in the trash along with the beer bottles and the bag set by the front door to go out. He glanced in the fridge and nodded in satisfaction at the variety of foods on the selves. He wouldn’t need to go for groceries today then. A soft head nudged his leg and Conner glanced down with a chuckle. Sumo sat there with wide, hopeful eyes, leash firmly clamped in his jaws. “Ready for a walk then?” Conner asked as he grabbed the leash and clipped it to Sumo’s blue collar. “Looks like Hank will be sleeping for a little while longer. It’s just you and me then.”

               Grabbing the trash, Conner closed and locked the front door behind them. Sumo did his business quickly and waited patiently for Conner to place the trash in the garbage can. The dog tugged eagerly on the leash, drawing a laugh out of the human. “I’m coming. I’m coming.” They took off at a brisk pace, heading toward Riverside Park. It was their favorite walk destination; Sumo for all the squirrels and Conner for the calming view. Hank had introduced it to him just after they had met, and it held a lot of bitter sweet memories for the both of them. Conner found himself there more times than he could count, just to think or to get away from the pressures of high society. The park wasn’t usually crowded as many preferred the larger parks, but he was a little surprised the see it was packed.

               Since when has Riverside Park hosted festivals? He starred in amazement as rows of portable tents and inflatable bouncy houses lining the trail ways and grass. Children chased each other and dragged amused parents to different attractions. Laughter and music floated on the air accompanied by the delicious aroma of carnival food. Conner glanced down at his companion. “What do you think Sumo, should we check out the festival?”

               The Saint Bernard gave him a simple huff and wagged his tail twice in agreement. Conner nodded, “very well then,” and they started down the trail toward the center of the activity. Venders of every kind surround them on both sides. People selling trinkets. Handmade jewelry and cosmetics attracted many of the older patrons while tents containing games like ring toss and balloon pop beckoned the younger crowd. There was even a little swimming pool filled with yellow rubber ducks for the little ones.

               They were stopped a few times as a couple of people wanted to pet Sumo and the gentle giant basked in the simple affection of the pats. A familiar voice called his name and Conner turned to see his secretary, Kara, with her Husband, Luther, and their nine-year-old daughter, Alice. “Hello Kara, Luther, Alice. It’s a pleasure to see you all.” Conner greeted politely.

               “Hello Conner,” Kara said with a smile as Alice waved with an enthusiastic ‘hi’. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

               Conner shrugged. “I didn’t really expect to be here. This is were we usually come on our walks and we were a little surprised to see a festival.”

               Alice’s eyes lit up as she gazed at Sumo. “Sumo!” She ran forward eagerly and showered him with affection. Sumo preened.

               “Alice wanted to come and try the bouncy houses.” Kara explained watching Alice giggle with a smile.

               “Was it worth it?” Conner asked the girl and she nodded.

               “Oh yes. You should try it, Conner. It’s super fun!”

               The adults laughed softly at her wonder. “I think I might be a bit big for the bouncy houses, but I’ll certainly take your word for it.” Conner replied before turning back to her parents. “How are you, Luther? Zlatko treating you well?”

               Luther’s smile strained. “He’s much better, though he’s still hard to work with. There’s not much more I can do other than what I have been doing.”

               “He’s paid the overtime he owes you, yes?” Conner asked eyebrows pinched.

               Luther nodded as the tension bled out of his shoulders. “Yes, after the last incident, he wouldn’t dare to weasel his way out of paying again, not with the lawyer breathing down his neck. Thank you for that, by the way,” the large man said smile warming his face, “I wasn’t the only one he was skimping out on. That lawyer really helped to figure out there was a lot of more missing paychecks than we thought, so thank you.”

               “I’m just happy to help.” Conner eyes grew serious. “You’ll let me know if something like that happens again.”

               Luther nodded. “Of course, people deserve to be paid what their worth.”

               Conner’s smile returned. “Good, well, it was wonderful to see you all and I’ll see you back at the office, Kara. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

               “You too, Conner. Have fun.” Kara said.

               “Bye, Conner!” Alice shouted as they walked away, and Conner waved happily after her, chuckling. He was happy to know that everything had been worked out for Luther and his co-workers. His smile faded as he thought about the Zlatko situation. He would need to keep a closer eye of the man, making sure he paid his employees properly. Honest men like Luther didn’t deserved to be treated so poorly. It maybe time to let Zlatko go, getting a more reliable worker in a leadership position. Perhaps it was time to promote Luther, he had defiantly proved himself worthy with this whole fiasco. Conner could feel the smile spreading. It seemed he had something to do first thing tomorrow morning.

               He glanced around the tents when sharp eyes recognized a familiar face moving around inside a royal purple tent. His smile returned as he approached the man seated in front of a worn, paint splattered easel, face pinched slightly in concentration. “Markus.”

               Said man’s head turned towards him, eyes locking with that beautifully intense gaze. Recognition flooded them quickly and his eyes lit up. “Conner,” the sharpie in his hands was capped and set aside as he stood to greet him.

               “Working hard?” Conner asked fingers playing with Sumo’s leash.

               Markus shrugged. “It’s not really work if you enjoy it.”

               “True,” Conner moved into the tent, trying to see what was resting on Markus’ easel. “What are you working on?”

               “Oh,” Markus stepped aside to reveal a cartoon face. “Caricatures.” The exaggerated eyes and nose made Conner chuckle.

               “Magnificent,” he teased,” your best work by far, I think.”

               “Of course,” Markus smirked. He held up the permanent marker. “Care to have your likeness immortalized in sharpie?”

               Conner smiled warmly and shrugged again. “Why not?”

               Markus gestured to the empty stool directly in front of the easel. As Conner moved to sit, Markus caught sight of the animal walking beside him. “And who is this handsome fella?” He asked as he readied a clean piece of paper.

               “This is Sumo,” Conner replied. “He belongs to Hank Anderson, my bodyguard.”

               Markus raised an eyebrow at that. “Do you normally walk your bodyguard’s dog?”

               “Oh, Hank’s more than a bodyguard. He’s a good friend of mine. He used to be a lieutenant for the Detroit Police Department before switching to close personal security. He had quite the reputation in the DPD, before I managed to steal him away.”

               “Really? He sounds like an interesting person.” Markus commented as the pen in his hand glided over the page. “How did you two meet?”

               “We became acquainted when I had just turned sixteen. In a fit of teenage rebellion, a couple of my peers and I decided to have an…impromptu party at one of the old abandoned freighters at the docks. We were quite inebriated and somehow caused the ship to sink. It caused quite a ruckus.”

               Markus paused and look at him over the top of the easel. “Wait, the Jericho sinking? That was you?”

               Conner was a little perplexed at the question. “Well, it wasn’t technically me but someone I was associated with, yes.”

               “Oh man,” Markus slouched back in his chair. “My friends and I used to hangout there during high school. That’s how we got the nickname Jericrew. We came by one day and the whole area was cordoned off with a majority of the ship submerged. We always assumed the hull had finally ruptured.”

               “I suppose, in a way, it did.” Conner rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry.”

               “It’s alright. It must have been some party.” Markus commented returning to his drawing. “So, what does the sinking of the mighty Jericho have to do with you meeting Mr. Anderson?”

               “He was the arresting officer. I rode in the back of his car to the station. He sat me down at his desk as he called my mother. Once he finished, he asked if I had anything I wanted to say. I told him to lock me up.”

               Markus raised another eyebrow at him. “Why?”

               Conner chuckled. “He asked me the same thing in almost the exact same way. It was simple really. It would tarnish my mother’s reputation. Who would’ve thought the great Amanda Stern would have a deliquiate son? It would’ve caused quite a scandal if it had gotten out. It didn’t, of course. My mother has a way of sweeping dirt under the rug.

               “Hank showed up a week later to be my bodyguard. He said he was getting bored sitting behind a desk all day, doing nothing but paper work. I say it was to keep me out of trouble.”

               “That is interesting, going from a police lieutenant to babysitting a sixteen-year-old.” Markus teased.

               “I suppose that is a bit of a step down,” Conner laughed. “I like to think I keep him on his toes.”

               “It seems to me you’re a bit of a rebel there, Mr. Stern.”

               Conner grinned at Markus’ smirk. “You make me sound cooler than I am. That was a single incident.”

               “Oh, I don’t know about that. You handled your liquor the other night like a seasoned veteran.”

               “That is Hank’s fault. He’s a pretty good drinking buddy and he’s about as fascinated with my talent as you guys were. He likes to buy different kinds of alcohol to try whenever I’m with him.”

               “He sounds like an interesting character. I’d love to meet him someday.”

               “Of course, I feel he and North will get along swimmingly.” Conner added with a mischievous grin.

               Markus groaned. “Oh no, I’m not sure I could handle two Norths.”

               “It would certainly be amusing.”

               Shaking his head with an amused huff, Markus signed his name at the bottom with a flourish and capped the marker, lifting the finished product. Conner let out a surprised laugh. His features were nowhere near proportional with too big eyes and mouth on an obnoxiously large head. The size of his body reminded him of those ‘would you rather’ questions asked at parties with how small it was. Sumo was depicted next to him with similar proportions in regard to his nose.

               “I think Sumo is the best part of that whole picture.” Conner stated scratching the proud pup behind the ears.

               Markus looked at the picture again. “He does kind of steal the show a bit, but I think the other guy is handsome too.”

               Conner blinked at that comment and smiled softly. He was not flirting, stop looking so deeply into things. Markus handed him a green, cardstock folder containing the finished drawing. “Thank you very much. How much do I owe you?”

               Markus shook his head. “Me? Nothing, but if you like, you can donate to the center. Every dollar helps.”

               “Center?” Conner’s held tilted and Markus couldn’t help but compare him to a curious puppy.

               “The Youth Centers of Detroit. That’s what the fair is for. Many local businesses are participating to raise funds for the centers.”

               “Is that what you’re doing?” Conner asked with a gesture to the easel.

               “Yep,” he popped the p. “A lot of these centers are understaffed and in disrepair. Many of the kids in the city don’t have access to the fine arts unless it’s through their school and let’s be honest, what kid wants to spend their free time at school?”

               “What makes you think they would want to go to the youth centers instead?”

               “You mean besides the fact that it’s completely free? More variety. They can learn about anything they wanted. Theatre. Ceramics. Self-defense. Web-design. I even teach a couple classes during the weekdays.”

               Conner gave him an appraising look. “Markus Manfred, teaching art classes?” He teased, and Markus puffed out his chest proudly.

               “Every Tuesday and Thursday at six o’clock.”

               “I’d have come check it out sometime, see if you’re really as good as you claim.”

               “Says the guy who has my pieces ‘adorning his room’.” Markus retorted and took great pleasure in Conner’s blush.

               Embarrassed and trying to hide it, Conner pulled a fifty out of his wallet and stuffed it in the large pickle jar on a side table that was already nearly full. “I expect all new brushes and paints with that generous donation, Mr. Manfred.”

               Markus granted him a smile full of teeth. “Of course, Mr. Stern. Only the best for you.”

               Conner rolled his eyes and grinned, thoroughly enjoying their playful banter. They were only interrupted when someone else entered the tent. “You’re good to go on a break, boss.” The girl wasn’t much younger than Conner, perhaps high school or college freshman. Her brown hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and she wore paint stained clothes.

               “Thanks, Stacy.” Markus said moving to put his things away. “Stacy, this is Conner and Sumo. Conner, this is Stacy, one of my students.”

               Conner shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

               “Same here. He’s a great teacher.” She nodded towards Markus.

               “I’m sure he is.”

               “You should come by the center sometime and check it out. He can turn even the most hopeless cases into true artists.”

               Conner wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be offended by that comment or not.

               “Alright, Stacy. No need to over sell.” Markus interjected coming to stand next to Conner.

               “Just trying to help you out, boss.”

               “And you’re doing a marvelous job, but I think Sumo wants to get out of this stuffy tent. Right Sumo?” The Saint Bernard merely wagged his tail at the mention of his name. “Right. Hey,” Markus turned to Conner. “You ever tried a cronut?”

               There’s that adorable head tilt. “A cronut?”

               Markus’ eyes widened comically. “Oh my god, you have not lived till you’ve tried one. Come on.” Their arms brushed as they said goodbye to Stacy and exited the tent in search of the legendary pastry.

               Markus lead them straight to the right vender, who Conner suspected was a friend of the painter. Jerry handed them each a cronut and bid them adieu as they enjoyed their treat. Conner immediately fell in love with the buttery, flaky goodness, sharing a little with Sumo. “You were certainly right, warm and delectable.” Conner said throwing his trash in a nearby garbage can. Sumo huffed, tongue swiping along his lips, searching for any remnants of the sugar treat. “Even Sumo agrees.”

               “I would never lie to you, especially about food.” Markus glanced down at his watch. “I still have time if you would care to take a little stroll.”

               “I’d be honored.” Conner said with a smile.

               Markus moved closer as they began a trek through the park, barely glancing at the rest of the attractions. “So, you play the piano, capture emotions onto canvas, run a studio, teach art classes to inspire young artists, and volunteer your free time to your community. Are there any other hobbies I should know about?” Conner asked with a hint of playfulness.

               Markus bashfully rubbed the back of his neck. “You make me sound more interesting than I really am.”

               “Markus, you are interesting.” Conner said sincerely. “I’ve never met someone with as much talent or dedication to their craft as you. You’re the epitome of the phrase, ‘Live life to the fullest’. It’s quite inspiring.”

               Markus’ cheeks darkened. “You keep that up and my head might explode.”

               “I’m serious.”

               “I know, and I’m flattered. I just believe that everyone deserves the right to live their lives the best that they can. Everyone deserves to be to be happy.” Markus sent a side glance to the man beside him. Speaking of… “Conner, could I ask you a personal question?”

               Conner blinked, slightly surprised. “Of course.”

               “Why did you say yes?”

               Conner’s brow furrowed. “I don’t quite understand.”

               “Your marriage. Why did you agree to it?”

               Conner froze in his tracks, Sumo coming to a stop next to him. Markus turned to look at him, eyes apologetic at asking such a forward question but making no move to dismiss it. Conner steeled himself for the conversation. His spine straightened, and eyes locked forward. He started walking again. “It was a business arrangement.”

               Markus kept pace with him. “Care to elaborate?”

               “Cyberlife is the world’s leading producers in robotics and artificial intelligence. Anything smarter than an analog clock, they’ve got their hands in. Smart phones, tablets, super computers, you name it, they’ve done it and that’s just in the last ten years. Only two people truly brought Cyberlife to the forefront of technological advances. Elijah Kamski and Amanda Stern.

               “Elijah is the brains behind Cyberlife’s inventions. His genius is unparalleled when it comes to coding and hard-ware. While he could rule the world with a few wires and some software, he’s not much of a businessman.”

               “I’m assuming that’s where your mother comes in.”

               “Amanda has been the CEO of Cyberlife through all its major accomplishments. Without her, there wouldn’t be a Cyberlife as we know it.

               But while she may be CEO, she doesn’t own any shares in the company. The Stern name has no connection to Cyberlife outside its big, glass doors and Amanda hates anything she can’t have. She feels that Cyberlife is as much hers as it is the Kamski’s.”

               “Seems like she wants to be part of the family.” Markus shook his head in disgust. “What exactly does she gain by marrying you to the Kamski’s?”

               “Power, prestige, about a third of the shares, second only to the Kamski’s.”

               “And what does the Kamskis get out of this arrangement?”

               “Amanda as CEO for the next ten years and then her apprentice for the next twenty.”

               Markus was silent as he contemplated this information. “That’s messed up.”

               “That’s business.”

               “And through all of that, you’re lost in the fine print.”

               Conner shrugged nonchalantly but Markus could see the tension in his shoulders. “You never did answer my question.” Conner looked at him confused. “Why did you agree? You’re an adult. You can say no.”

               Conner didn’t answer but his eyes darkened with so much despair that it caused a physical pain in Markus’ chest. Now he understood Conner’s connection with those paintings of his. The need to reach out and hold this man, to comfort him and protect him, was nearly overwhelming and his hand moved of it own accord. “Conner,” he started but Conner spoke.

               “It’s alright, Markus.” His voice was strong, but his smile wavered.

               No, it wasn’t alright, but Markus didn’t know how to fix it.

               “You never did answer my question either,” Conner stated breaking the tension.

               “And what’s that?”

               “What else can the Marvelous Markus do?”

               Markus chuckled slightly. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

               Conner locked eyes with him. “I suppose so.” Those deep brown eyes just seemed to pull Markus in and he was almost afraid he would lose himself in their depths.

               The moment was interrupted when Sumo let out a sudden and loud bark and jerked the leash out of Conner’s hand, leaving behind an angry sting. “Wait, Sumo! Come back!” He shouted taking off after the energized dog. Markus followed close behind and soon they were chasing Sumo through the park. Apologizing to startled bystanders, Sumo lead them out to a vacant field. Conner lunged for the animal but missed as Sumo turned at the last minute. Jumping to his feet quickly, Markus sped past him and nearly fell flat on his face when Sumo barreled into his legs.

               “Sumo, come here!” Conner called but the dog just wagged his tail, let out a ‘boof’, and dropped into a playful crouch, daring Conner to make a move. A mischievous grin was slowly making its way across his face as he stared down the Saint Bernard. “You won’t win, beast.”

               Warmth spread out from the center of his chest as Markus watched Conner play with Sumo. He looked so different from the moment before, unburdened and…happy. He chuckled quietly at Conner’s challenge. The playful atmosphere was thrumming with suspense as man and animal waited for the other to move. A small twitch toward the dog and Sumo took off like a shot. He ran straight past Markus who fingers just brushed his tail. His botched attempt nearly sent him face first into the grass again but a strong grip on his arm kept him from eating dirt.

               “Crafty, isn’t he?” Conner said with a sly smile and Markus snickered. “Go around and cut him off.”

               Markus gave him a mock salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.” He ran around the tree just as Conner corralled Sumo in that direction and Markus dove for him. His hand closed around the leash, “Gocha,” and Sumo slowed to a stop. Both men were breathing hard as they tried to calm their racing hearts. Markus handed the leash off to Conner.

               “Thanks.”

               “You’re welcome.” Markus replied their fingers brushing. It was then that he remembered, “Your hand.” He grabbed Conner’s right hand and turned it over, searching for the irritated rash on his palm.

               “Oh, it’s nothing, really.” Conner protested but it died quickly as his hand was cradled gently in warm, calloused hands. Tan fingers brushed over smooth skin, sending a tingle through his palm. He looked up to see mismatched eyes starting at him with a look he couldn’t quite describe but sent the butterflies in him shrieking. He just knew he had to be blushing.

               “I think you’ll be alright.” Markus spoke softly, and goosebumps formed on Conner’s arms.

               The moment broke as Sumo barked and ran a circle around them, effectively wrapping the leash around their legs. “Sumo, No!” Conner cried as he was thrown off balance. His hands immediately latched onto Markus’ shoulders as leverage as Markus’ hands instinctively landed on his hips. It was futile as they both toppled over with Conner landing on top of Markus, pressing flush against him. Mortified, Conner tried to scramble off him, effectively digging an elbow into Markus’ chest and ridding him of all the air in his lungs. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” Conner apologized, still wiggling. Arms wrapped around him and he froze.

               Markus let out a deep belly laugh that Conner could feel reverberating through his core and he stared, mesmerized, at the unbridled joy on Markus’ face. The grin revealed pearly white teeth and crinkled the edges of his eyes and Conner longed to run a finger over the tiny ridges. He could almost count the freckles on his nose. A black speck in the green of his left eye twinkled at him. His belly burned as he fought the desire to lean down and kiss him. He was so close.

               “It’s alright,” Markus said breaking him out of his very inappropriate musings and his face burned hotter. “Here,” Markus leaned up and Conner panicked, throwing an arm around him without thinking. The artist quickly detangled the leash from their legs and Conner slid off his lap onto the grass gratefully…and secretly disappointed.

               “Well, that was interesting.” Conner giggled a little self-conscious. Markus just grinned, eyes sparkling. The phone in Conner’s pocket buzzed and he pulled it out.

               ‘Stop stealing my dog, you plastic asshole.’

               “Well, Hank’s awake. I better get Sumo back.” He stood, holding his hand out to Markus. Fingers circled around his wrist immediately and he pulled him up, blatantly ignoring the tingling left behind as those fingers caressed the inside of his wrist and palm as they let go.

               “You seriously stole his dog?” Markus asked with a laugh.

               Conner grinned. “Only on my days off.”

               They stood there, just smiling at each other, when Conner finally backed away. “I’ll see you later, Markus.”

               “See you,” Markus replied raising his hand in a goodbye.

               Conner returned the wave and reluctantly turned his back, still grinning like a fool. He was really glad he decided to go to the festival today.

[ryuzakisan]

What if L was Kira? (part 2)

I had asked a bonus question in the previous part of this post, (to read part 1, click here.) saying: If L became Kira, would Light be against him or would he work with him? In this part, I will be sharing the replies I got both through Tumblr and Quotev, then state my opinions on the topic and lastly, share a couple of alternative scenarios that could have happened depending on the possibility of Light working with L or being against him. Enjoy!

Replies on Tumblr:

1. (user: @chimeracuddles) I think Light would be against him, without the Death Note, Light would still have his holier than thou attitude, known Light he would dedicate himself into bringing L Kira down to add to the list of crimes he has solved before ending High School x

2. (user: @levycerise) I don't want to go through the whole process of their likelihood of crossing paths in this scenario, so let's just say they know each other and Light knows L has a Death Note and was Kira.

I believe that Light might actually try to work with L at first, and I genuinely believe it would work out. For a while.

As seen in the series, it's basically just a dick size contest between the two 24/7, and the who are highly intelligent men who, by their own admission, hate to lose. It's in my belief that they would battle for dominance and authority over the other. Two dominant personalities find it hard to cooperate and they will conflict over time. I believe at first there would be the illusion of equality for Light. This is my opinion, but L just... radiates something that screams dominance to me. Not in the typical hypermasculine way. It's the more... "I'm intelligent and have chess like maneuvering" dominance, you know?? Light is the exact same way, and I feel that his suspicions and L's subtle moves would inevitably lead Light initiating a fight for control.

Just my opinion.

3. (user: @the-real-death-note-victim) Light is a hypocrite. Without his Kira memories, he is completely convinced that Kira is evil - he only thinks Kira is right if he knows he's the one who committed the crimes. ("I'm not evil, I killed people, so killing people wasn't evil.")

Additionally, assuming that L would have any interest in involving Light at all, it would probably not be as a partner, at least at first. While Light is smart, there's nothing that would draw L to him if he weren't already looking for someone who fit the profile Kira, meaning he would be investigating himself which he would know would be very risky. No one can contact him before he takes the case in canon, the only person he'd have to deny is Watari. So if he decides to take his own case, it would probably happen out of boredom, trying to find himself an enemy to battle, or out of desperation, so he can frame someone. While he may decide he prefers Light alive and working with him eventually he would have already put too much pressure onto Light and ruined their relationship.

Replies on Quotev:

1. ( user: Naotoisbestwaifu) I believe if L became Kira, Light would be against him.

Before Death note Light: He would despise his actions and do whatever to bring him to justice.

After Death note Light: He would probably still be against L. L he would probably find unworthy of being in his kingdom.

2. (user: CardtowerChild) I believe that Light would be completely against it. Just like how he was against Kira when he lost his memories. I feel like Light would insist on helping Soichiro with the case, and I think Light would be the only one to be L’s foil. Just like how L was Light’s foil, also Near was too (but that’s irrelevant).

My own opinions on the topic:

1. Possibility of Light supporting (L) Kira:

If Light really had a high sense of justice like he claimed to have, if he really waited for something like Death Note to own and if he really thought that the only way to provide justice was to get rid of criminals, then he would have been a huge supporter of L Kira.

An alternative scenario:

- Light would try to discover how L Kira was able to kill in order to have the same power. It is questionable if he wanted to have that power to take over L Kira’s place and become the new Kira or just to help L Kira reach his goal.

- Light would have insisted his dad on working with the Japanese Task Force and Soichiro wouldn’t have any other chance apart from accepting it because he knew it could be dangerous for his son to work on the case individually instead of working in an environment which ensured protection to everyone by hiding their identities. (In addition to that, it was a known fact that Light had helped the police a couple times to get to a conclusion in some cases which were quite hard to solve, meaning that he could, indeed, be helpful in the case.)

- After joining the JTF, Light could have had access to private information and some materials that would help him find out who L Kira was. Finding L Kira’s identity could be the only way to figure out how he killed.

- Meanwhile Light was in the Japanese Task Force, L Kira would have contacted JTF by the help of Watari and introduced himself as one of the greatest detectives in the world, "Eraldo Coil", then he would give them some useless hints (for instance, criminals leaving secret messages before their death.) about L Kira that initially seemed efficient. Thus he could gain JTF’s trust and observe how the investigation went.

- Since Misa admired L Kira for killing the murderer who was responsible of her parents' death, she would have sent tapes to the JTF (just like who she did in the anime/manga) in order to find L Kira and help him reach his goal. Eraldo would already known it was someone else sending the tapes which lead him to decide to stop Kira 2 (yes, it did not matter whether Kira 2 was more powerful than him or not since he already had enough sources to find his victims' names and didn't necessarily need Kira 2 to kill anyone for him) or at least make a deal with her, because he basically did not want any information about himself and his way of killing to be leaked. He had to assure his safety.

- After the massacre had happened in front of Sakura TV's building, by the help of Light's deductive skills, JTF would notice that there was a stronger Kira (that could kill people only by seeing their faces) outside, who waited for meeting L Kira and it made them come to the realisation of having fake identities wouldn't help them hide from Kira 2. That's why Light had to reach Kira 2 as a priority since Kira 2 was way more childish than L Kira and she could kill whoever stood against the Kira ideology and tried to prevent her from meeting L Kira. He basically didn’t want to get killed when he was indeed by Kiras’ side.

- While Light was too concerned with how he could communicate Kira 2 without Eraldo noticing him and having suspicions, Eraldo asked Light to record a reply to Kira 2 as L Kira. Light would accept doing it (because it could be a great opportunity for Light to leave a message that only L Kira could understand), and when he did it, L Kira was quite impressed by his work. Nonetheless, this wouldn’t be enough for L Kira to fully trust Light because he had no idea Light was in fact by his side.

/ In the mean time, JTF was insisting on Eraldo to show his face. He was the only one who wasn't under danger because he was hiding himself during the whole process and it was unfair. That's why he had no choice other than meeting them. After meeting them and talking to each member of JTF "to make sure none of them could be Kira," he, once again, realised how similar Light was to him while talking to Light. Light had felt the same way and he could not help himself thinking what would happen if Eraldo was in fact Kira. He thought it was only a weak possibility, that's why his suspicion quickly faded away. /

- Instead of meeting with Kira 2 in person, L Kira would want someone else to do it for him. (so that his identity wouldn’t be under danger because of a stranger he could not trust immediately) After collecting evidence from the tapes and finding out it was possible that Kira 2 could be Amane Misa, Eraldo asked Light to somehow be friends with Misa and try to collect more evidence until he was %100 certain that she was in fact Kira 2. Since Light’s purpose on working on the case was to figure out L Kira's way of killing to gain his power and Kira 2 was even stronger than L Kira, he immediately accepted to meet Misa and try to get some efficient information.

- After Light (somehow) met Misa, Misa immediately fell in love with him. Light had never thought it could be this easy to get Misa be attached to him. Although he never complained about that, because he knew he could have used Misa's love as an advantage. And he did it. They started dating after a while and one day, Light talked about how he appreciated L Kira for his actions and how he wished he had the same ability of killing so that he could help L Kira reach his goal. Since he had already gained Misa's trust and Misa had no idea Light was working for the JTF, she would show her Death Note to Light and confess that she was in fact Kira 2. Thus Light could be amazed and would fall in love with her more.

- After Misa let Light touch the Death Note, explained him the rules and told about why/how she owned it, Light would admit that he was working for the JTF and his purpose of working with them was to reach L Kira and help him change the world. Then he would use Eraldo's suspicion as an excuse to borrow Misa's Death Note and use it for her. Now that he could have sent Misa to jail since he had already gotten what he needed, but instead, he chose to protect her. Because:

1. Rem was a huge threat for Light.

2. If he got Misa taken under custody because of her admission of being the second Kira, Eraldo would like to know how she was able to kill and he would start looking for the Death Note.

3. Kira 2 being found would lead L Kira's end and that was the last thing Light would want to happen.

- Time was passing but JTF couldn't go any further in the investigation and Light could see Eraldo becoming impatient since he was constantly asking if there was any updates on Misa. Even though Eraldo was a big threat for Light, he couldn’t get rid of him easily. Because:

1. He was a weirdo who almost never went out, which meant there was no way for Misa to see him and find out his real name.

2. It would seem suspicious if Light killed Eraldo right after he met Misa.

- Eraldo was almost sure that Amane Misa was Kira 2 and Yagami Light was protecting her for a reason. But what was his purpose? Maybe he was in love with Misa? No, that would be way too childish for someone like Light. Maybe he was a L Kira supporter and became a member of JTF because he couldn’t go far in the investigation and find L Kira if he worked individually? Could be. The only way to prove it was to employ a detective to follow him. That’s why he told about his plan to all of the Task Force members except Light, saying that he doubted that somebody in the task force or someone that was related to a task force member could be leaking private information to team Kira and Light was one of the suspects especially since how dramatically his attiude changed ever since he met Misa.

- Eraldo would employ Raye Penber to follow Yagami Light and his “girlfriend” Amane Misa to see what they were up to. Rem would have soon noticed that they were being followed and would warn Light and Misa. Then Light would make a plan for getting rid of Raye. He would tell Eraldo that he broke up with Misa and stopped observing her actions. Also it was a waste of time to focus on Misa because she was too stupid to be Kira. Around a week later, he would go out with another girl and he would fulfill the same plan to kill Raye Penber we read in the manga/watched in the anime.

- After Raye Penber got killed, Naomi Misora would try to communicate with JTF to share her deductions. A couple hours later Eraldo would call her, introducing himself as Suzuki, the head of the Kira investigation's public information division and ask her about what information she was going to share with JTF. When Naomi told him about the situation that occured in the bus and whoever Raye was following in that bus was possibly Kira or at least someone who worked for him, “Suzuki” thanked her for the valuable information that she had given him and killed her (just like how Light did in the anime/manga) right after they finished talking on the phone. Now all he had to do was to check the camera recordings in somewhere close to the bus stop and see who Raye was following.

- Eraldo would make a deal with Light after realising that he was in fact helping Kira. Would he do it because he really needed it? No. He would just do it because it would be too obvious L Kira was someone from JTF if he got rid of both Misa and Light.

- Once they made the deal of working together, a battle between Kira and L Kira would begin. In the rest of the scenario, they would basically be in a fight of being the leader, the dominant one. A couple months later, the case not going any further would attract Near and Mello’s attention and they would soon be involved in the case as Kiras’ biggest enemies.

NOTE: I will leave the scenario like this, because if I continue writing, it will be too long and too complicated to be read.

2. Possibility of Light being against (L) Kira:

If a mass murderer who claimed to bring justice to the world by killing high profile criminals were to appear and it was someone else than Light, it is a huge possibility that Light would take place against him and start working on the case because he would have finally found something that helped him get rid of his boredom and use his intelligence. Light had never thought about providing justice to the world and he had never planned anything to kill criminals until he found the Death Note. Whatever Light did was because he wanted a challenge, someone that was able to compete with his high intelligence. Since L also likes to use his intelligence, why wouldn’t he create his own case by using Death Note and get many people involved in it, then just watch them getting confused?

An alternative scenario:

- A similar thing with the first scenario would happen. L Kira would be a part of the JTF, introducing himself as Eraldo Coil and gain their trust by giving them unnecessary information that initially seemed efficient. The only difference would be Light’s purpose of joining the task force.

- After what happened in front of Sakura TV’s building, Eraldo would have had to show his face to the JTF just like in the previous scenario.

- Light would realise that there was another Kira and that person was childish enough to kill anyone who came in her way. In order to find any clues about who Kira 2 could be, Light would ask Eraldo if they could find any fingerprints, fiber or hair in the package Kira 2 had sent to Sakura TV. By collecting evidence from the package, Eraldo would suspect that Kira 2 could be in fact Amane Misa. Although he wouldn’t share his suspicion with the JTF since L Kira knew that Light would communicate with Misa to get more evidence and wouldn’t stop until he was 100% certain that she was Kira 2. If Light caught Misa, Light would eventually find out about Death Note’s existence and it would put L Kira into a huge risk.

- After JTF prepared a tape as a reply to Kira 2’s tape, L Kira would (somehow) communicate with Misa (not in person) and make a deal with her to stay silent and send another tape to JTF. (she was supposed to tell the exact same things we saw in the anime/manga.) Light would immediately notice that L Kira and Kira 2 met when he listened to the second tape that came from Kira 2 since Kira 2’s threatening and insistent attitude had dramatically changed.

- L Kira was totally amazed by Light’s deductive skills and knew that Light was a big threat for him. He had to get rid of him and he could have done it indeed, because he had already seen Light’s face and obviously known his real name. Although killing Light could have been risky, also L Kira loved how Light made things challenging. In adittion to that, he would have gone against his ideology if he killed an innocent person and he didn’t care that much about Light.

The deal between Misa and L Kira: Misa would ask L Kira to meet her in person (so that if L Kira attempted something out of the plan, Misa could kill him) in exchange of letting L Kira touch a piece of her Death Note, not killing anyone outside his command and staying silent.

- Light would be surprised to see Eraldo going out and not even telling why. He couldn't have helped himself thinking that Eraldo going out was related to the Kira case and he might have known more than he had shared with the JTF. As a result of that, he decided to keep an eye on Eraldo to see if he really hid something.

NOTE: I can't find an idea about how this scenario would continue so I will leave it like this. If something suddenly pops up in my mind, I will edit this part and let you know about it.

NOTE 2: There are probably a million more alternative scenarios depending on the prospect of Light working with L Kira or being against him, yet these were the only ones that came into my mind. Sorry for all the nonsense (both grammatically and logically) you might have encountered in them. I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoyed reading it! Please feel free to ask me questions or share your ideas with me!

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

Winx Alt Con: Season ONE Recap:

Previously: (b.y.s.) 00, 01, 02

Week 03: Episodes covered – 08, 09

The day before Magical Mother's Day (The Day of the Rose) is a half day for Alfea students (as is the day after, to permit for travel times and inter-planetary time zones.) After seeing off Flora and Tecna, the remaining trio start planning what to they're going to do on the Day of the Rose.

Stella begins telling Musa and Bloom about a festival in Magix, mentioning the Red Fountain boys were planning to enter a race (which she knew courtesy of Sky). When Musa declines the invite, Stella asks why she's staying at the school. Bloom's staying for research, Stella's own parents are divorcing (something Bloom found out on her trip to Stella's wardrobe), but why is Musa staying?

After an insensitively worded question by Stella, Musa lashes out angrily, taking a swipe at the princess, the fairy of music confesses that her mother is dead, and after telling Stella to 'shut up,' Musa flees.

Stella looks like she wants to punch herself for her insensitivity, but Bloom talks her out of it, making a plan for Stella to apologise later, once Musa's calmed down. In an effort to cheer up the blonde, Bloom agrees to going with her to see the boys race.

While something seems a little fragile around the edges, Stella smiles happily and begins making plans, talking clothes, transport and festival sights.

The morning of the actual Day of the Rose, Bloom jolts awake, the question 'remember what' spilling out of her mouth before she has a chance to even realise she's awake. Stella pops her head into the room, already dressed to impress, and wanting to know who Bloom was talking to. (Apparently she'd heard Bloom calling out a few times from the next room and come to investigate.)

Bloom tells Stella what she can remember about her dream while she finds her own clothes for the day. (A strange glowing woman calling to her, telling her to remember. The voice familiar, like she'd heard it recently but can't quite place it.)

Out in the dorm's main room, they run into Musa on her way to breakfast and Stella quickly apologises. Musa, looking more worn than angry, accepts the apology, admitting she knows Stella didn't mean what she'd said how she'd said it. Musa goes on to mention that she was a little jealous of the other Winx all having their mothers, even Stella who, even though her mother wasn't sticking around in the same capacity, wasn't losing her forever.

The girls hug, letting their embrace translate the last unspoken words of forgiveness and support.

After Musa declines to join them again, Bloom and Stella let Musa know she is still welcome to join them at any time, or if she isn't up to crowds but doesn't want to be alone, they can absolutely cancel or cut short their plans.

Musa replies by shoving them out the door towards the breakfast hall.

In Cloud Tower the Trix seethe over their punishment, and decide to try again at revenge. (“They're first years! We're seniors! I won't let those pesky winged ***** get between us and the Dragon Fire AGAIN!... Darcy? What are you doing with that scrying mirror?”/ “That boy from Alfea, the one with darkness in his heart... he's going to the festival today.”/ “So?”/ “So, I think I'll go introduce myself.”)

In Magix, the two girls meet up with Sky, Brandon and Riven. They make their way through town, looking at various sights as they head closer and closer to the place the boys need to be for the start of their race.

While watching one of the early races, Riven takes a chance to proclaim his upcoming victory, and while Sky tells Stella he'll have to put the pedal to the metal to beat Riven, both Sky and Brandon treat Riven's declaration as nothing more than empty bragging, which annoys Riven who becomes increasingly hostile as the group approaches the starting point.

While Stella and Sky make goo-goo eyes at each other, Bloom and Brandon make awkward-shy eyes. Sky and Brandon begin taunting Riven about not having anyone to cheer him on, and the girls give the boys disappointed looks, telling Riven they'll cheer for him too.

This doesn't go over well with any of the boys, and before any of them can stop and think about what they're saying, all of them blurt out horrible things, the worst of which is Riven, who decides to jab at the sore point Bloom and Stella's words have revealed in Brandon's holier-than-thou attitude.

Riven declares that he'll not only win the race, he'll be escorting both fairies to the ball later in the day. Still riled up, Bloom enchants a vase to spill water over Riven, and only after he runs off, the other three laughing at his retreating back, does Bloom realise a line has been crossed.

Slowly it dawns on the other three, and the quartet stand there feeling a bit sick at their own actions.

It comes out that, as long as they've known him, Riven has always resented Brandon and Sky, and despite being one of the best in the school, Riven always acts like he has something to prove.

Bloom tells them they need to find Riven and apologise and the group heads out.

(Unseen nearby, Darcy laughs victoriously.)

While looking for their lost companion, Bloom is separated from the others, only to run into Timmy. Something in Bloom's instincts pings faintly, but she lets Timmy guide her back to the Square where their group was supposed to be gathering. On the way, Timmy asks what Bloom is so worried about, and the fairy tells him about the fight with Riven. Timmy offers Bloom a high-tech helmet to give Riven as a piece offering. Once Bloom accepts, Timmy points her in the right direction and tells Bloom no to tell anyone that he (Timmy) had given her the helmet.

Upon finding the others, who had found Riven in the meantime, Bloom admits to getting lost and (since it wouldn't be break her word exactly, and being suspicious AF) tell the others that Timmy had pointed her in the right direction. The others give her a funny look before telling Bloom that Timmy had gone home for the Day of the Rose.

Yelping, Bloom drops the helmet case and tells the others not to touch it, before explaining its origins. Riven scoffs “you think I need technological assistance to beat these losers?” Annoyed all over again, Riven leaves for the starting line.

Stella helps Bloom run a scanning spell, which alerts them both to the presence of dark magic in the device. Sharing a look, the remaining quartet try to figure out who would want to sabotage Riven. The girls come to a conclusion right away, while in the shadows, Darcy seethes, and decides to enact 'plan B'.

Riven, Brandon and Sky spend the majority of the race in the lead, until, right near the end, another competitor catches up, getting in the way of both Sky and Brandon, and letting Riven win by a landslide, the mysterious entrant comes in a close second.

While the boys were racing, Stella and Bloom went looking for the Trix, trying to figure out what the witches wanted, so they miss Riven's first real meeting with Darcy. (“Nice riding hero.”/ “Just nice?”/ “Well, (flirty look) when compared with the rest of you. (smoulder)”)

Unable to find any trace of the witches, the fairies head over to congratulate their boys on their race results.

That evening, the quartet enjoy themselves as the Rose Ball, while Riven and Darcy spend the evening getting to know each other, and staying far away from the others.

Waking in the middle of the night to a desperate shout, Flora finds Bloom shifting back and forth between her human and fairy form, calling out to someone in her sleep. Thinking quickly, Flora sets her phone camera to record, points it in Bloom's direction, and runs for Stella.

Despite being tired and cranky, Stella is more afraid for her friend, having never heard of someone 'partially' transforming their sleep before. Awoken by Flora's knocking on Stella's door, and curious about the lights on, Tecna and Musa come to see what's going on. Also unable to even guess what's going on, the four friends stand by Bloom's bed, uncertain whether they should do anything or not.

Bloom wakes up with a shout of 'Daphne!' to find her friends standing around her bed looking very worried. When she asks what's going on, Flora hands over her phone with the recording of Bloom's wavering sleep transformations.

The group debate whether or not to go to Faragonda with this, but after realising the time, decide to wait until morning.

Armed with a sketch of 'Daphne,' (drawn by Bloom because she is an artist damnit) Bloom and the others seek out Faragonda. In her office, Faragonda is shocked by the girls' accounts of Bloom's sleep transformations, and startles when she recognises her former student, Daphne, from the drawing.

Faragonda explains that Daphne was the Crown Princess of Domino, and a 'Nymph' of Magix until the Siege and Destruction of Domino roughly 150 years ago. When questioned what it all means, Faragonda admits she has a suspicion, but it seems highly implausible and she doesn't want to influence Bloom's perception of events concerning Daphne's attempts to contact her. (and possibly causing confusion with Daphne's intention.)

Faragonda directs Bloom to the Library to research Daphne on her own, telling her where to find the old year books from that time if she's interested in more personal aspects of Daphne pre-graduation.

After school, the girls head into Magix to check out the frieze of the Nymphs in the town centre, learning little in the way of new information, before returning to the school.

Where they realise they've been so preoccupied with Daphne, that they've neglected to study for their upcoming exam in the magical simulator room. The girls hold a study party and make sure they're prepped for their day long exam block in two days. (Bloom calls Brandon to cancel the 'not a date' they had planned, they agree to reschedule, school work being very important.)

The girls go over air, water and soil purification, magical fertilisation, plant growth, weather adaptations and so forth. By the time the exam arrives, they all feel they're as prepared as they can be.

Week 04

[zjennings91]

SPORTS MEDIA INTERNSHIP

Entry Two - Finding your feet in the internship and completing initial tasks 

A common thread throughout this reflective ePortfolio will be the effect the coronavirus pandemic is having in Victoria. Whilst I am already tired of referencing it throughout last semesters ePortfolio, addressing the elephant in the room of these unprecedented times early will allow me to realise these internships are incomparable to the ones from years before. We have our own, unique challenges to face, but nonetheless, I am certain more positives will arise from this unparalleled situation if you seek them. This has been a focus of mine since the first hour of my internship, find the positives.

The purpose of these internships is to assists students who are graduating to transition seamlessly into the workforce through structured practical training. Internships have been found to help students develop interpersonal skills and personal maturity and to increase their potential of acquiring employment compared to students who do not have an internship experience (Ramli et. al 2013).

Soft skills such as communication skills, interpersonal skills and elements of personal characteristics have been linked to employability. Learning these soft skills is important for professional and organisational success (Dean & Clements 2010).

Undertaking one of my internships with Hook Media has assisted me in settling in and feeling comfortable. With Davin Sgargetta being the director of Hook and also one of my lecturers, our personal and somewhat professional relationship had already been established. There was an initial ‘teething’ period, were we had to find which hours during the week would both suit and benefit both parties throughout the internship. This also applied with communication, because this is currently a remote internship, finding a suitable communication channel (email, text message or phone call) was also a facet which had to be developed.

Although my Cricket Victoria (CV) internship has only just officially started, my first meeting as the CV intern was very positive, with both Dean and Nick giving me extremely good feedback from my interview process. They were both very clear in explaining to me their goals for me during this internship, and again, while currently undertaking this remotely, they are keen to get me into their offices ASAP, which is also an aspect I hope to get significant hours in. I feel as though both parties are on the same page which is very comforting.

Early success (in a new work environment) entails balance; you want to make a great first impression, however, cannot expect to get everything right. You need to gain an understanding of your new workplace and its own unique ecosystem (Indeed 2020).

This was pertinent with my very first task at Hook. Asked to do an audit of sorts on the social media channels ran by Hook, I wanted to my feedback to be both constructive and honest. Being my very first task, this is was a little daunting, as I did not want to paint myself as a ‘know-it-all’ and come across as anything resembling a ‘holier than thou’ attitude. However, Davin was open and receptive of my feedback and we had a good discussion about the task I had undertaken. This immediately made me feel at ease and gave me confidence in being honest and open in future tasks, some of which have included giving feedback on other projects Hook have been associated with. From my perspective, this has really helped develop the relationship quickly between intern and intern partner, whilst also giving me confidence in my personal brand, where honest is one of my key values.

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

Dean, BA & Clements, MD 2010, ‘Pathway for student self-development: a learning orientated internship approach’, Australian Journal of Adult Learning, vol. 50, no. 2, pp. 287-307, viewed 15 November 2020, Google Scholar

How To Excel At A Virtual Internship 2020, online video, 5 May, Forbes, viewed 15 November 2020, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSWIag4PwMQ

How To Start A New Job While Working From Home 2020, online video, 16 June, Forbes, viewed 15 November 2020, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8J-CLvx2je0

Indeed 2020, How to Succeed in Your New Job: The First Week, Month and 90 Days, viewed 15 November 2020, https://www.indeed.com/career-advice/starting-new-job/new-job-guide

Ramli, JA, Surbaini, KN, Kadir, MRA & Abidin, ZZ 2013, ‘Examining Pre-Internship Expectations among Employers on the Students’ Characteristics and Internship Program: The Empirical Study of Malaysian Government-Linked Company’s University’, Management, vol. 3, no. 2, pp. 112-120, viewed 15 November 2020, Google Scholar

[synnefo-nefeli]

Strange Days Prequel...ish?

This started out as a response to people’s requests to see more Pre-Strange Days Simon and Miles interaction due to this drabble I did for the 2016 Holiday Drabbles last year. Where Omega Chief Prosecutor Miles went to visit Simon at Thanksgiving and then was feeling needy and stuff...

And then it turned into a Pre-AA5 Omegaverse AU/ Strange Days prequel so here you go.  Not Beta’d just something I banged out because I miss writing this story and life is killing me when it comes to finishing my WIPs. 

Strange Days is here if your want to read it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3588921/chapters/7914879

Strange Days Holiday Prequel story here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10074146/chapters/22448375

Strange Days Prequel

Pairings: Narumitsu, others if you squint.

Summary:  It’s April 2026 and the Chief Prosecutor has a lot to do...

Rating: M, for subject matter and some implied sexy-times

The visiting center for Protective Population was as bleak as he had imagined.  Where General Population had an air of sterility and little warmth for the visitors who came to see their friends and loved ones. Protective Population on the other hand, managed to be colder and more impersonal than Miles thought possible.

Perhaps, those few who were segregated from the majority of the prison population- for prisoner safety or for political reasons- whatever the reason- didn’t really receive guests.  Either forgotten by society until their death sentence or parole was carried out, or simply abandoned by family. Due to the existing danger to transport to the communal visiting areas, the members of the the Protected Population were kept in small cells for the duration of their allotted time with visitors.

There was one other prisoner with a visitor that afternoon.  Their mate, Miles supposed, as he looked at the thin slip of a woman who was sitting in front of the imprisoned Alpha’s cell, balancing a baby on her lap.  Miles could hear whispers of their conversation, the low croon of the Alpha-

He coughed and looked across at the empty cell, waiting for his appointment.  Cleary, him being the newly appointed Chief Prosecutor had not been enough to impress the Warden to have a more private setting arranged...or the appointment on time.

Doubtful had he been an Alpha or a Beta he’d be treated this way….ah well, Miles was unfortunately getting used to such passive aggressiveness the further he advanced his career.

The door on the other side of the glass opened and a large man was ushered in; despite there being a solid thick wall of reinforced glass between them, the man was kept shackled.  There was an unnerving current of aggression Miles sensed, the thick ponytailed mane of hair, a streak of white, gaunt sallow skin and dark circles under the young man’s arrogantly sparking eyes made Simon Blackquill look wilder than Miles remembered.  There was no hint of quiet and polite young prosecutor whom Miles had briefly met almost seven years ago.   

These cursed seven years have taken a toll on everyone, he quietly thought as he looked at what many considered to be the final blow that sent the courts spiralling into the Dark Age of the Law.  First his mate, and shortly after Wright’s disbarment, Simon came tumbling after into disgrace.

Across from him Simon was studying him, trying to suss his orientation out, Miles belatedly realized.

“You’re not an Alpha…” Simon Blackquill said bluntly, “I thought....you were. Don’t tell me, von Karma was all bluster about their perfect Alpha prosecutors”  There was a smirk across the man’s wild face.  

Miles sighed.  Typical Alpha behavior; at least Miles at enough experience dealing with Lang, that Simon’s curiosity didn’t bothered him.

Blackquill’s response hadn’t phased him...Miles had grown up around this holier-than-thou attitude in his formative years;had possessed it once himself, even.  It wasn’t rude, it was something that came with the territory of being an Alpha from pedigree house as Blackquill.  Simon was all male alpha...the size, the weight- though Miles could see from there was a glassy-eyed appearance to Simon, that indicated that a heavy amount of suppressants coursed within the young man.  

All Alphas in prison were kept on the highest form of suppressants to curb their natural aggression and it’s spikes during the mating season. Omegas and Alphas were always segregated in prison for this reason, however, there were a many Omega guards at this prison, and so the precautions were made.

“You can tell I am not,” Miles said stiffly, “it’s a long story I am afraid,one that’s too long for this meeting…”

Simon was sizing him up from the other side of the glass, “So they really did hire an Omega as the Chief Prosecutor…” a dark chuckle, “I bet that sent the Elites for a spin-”

Miles blinked cooly, “Does it offend you to be in my presence?”

The Alpha shrugged, “Of course not.  I am just impressed, that’s all- perhaps the world is getting better while I rot in here.”

“On your own volition,” Miles said smoothly, watching the shiver of annoyance make it’s way through his company.  Simon’s eyes narrowed,

“I cut the bitch up…” came the low growl, “my sister wanted to mate her- I wanted her for myself.  My sister had no right-”

If Simon was trying to intimidate him, he was dealing with the wrong Omega, “Don’t speak that way about your mentor.  I know for a fact that you were devoted to her, and you would have never stolen your sister, the heir to your house’s, mate… your reputation as a dutiful son precedes you.”

“I killed her...the courts found me guilty-”

“I am growing bored of this,” Miles snapped, “I’m not here to argue with you about your performance.  I am here to ask you if you are interested in helping me take down the people who are responsible for the death of Metis Cykes, among the many.”

Simon barely could hide the look of hope that crossed his face before it was shut down and placed under the irreverent look Simon had carried in with him.  The Twisted Samurai indeed.

Miles carried on as if he hadn’t noticed, “I am prepared to offer you compensation for you- better accommodations,  longer time in the yard and time with your hawk...I’ll even ask the Warden to lower your suppressants-”

“No!”  Simon said and then another shudder, “ No. Don’t ask for that...it’s hell enough without them.  Had to beg the Warden for more…”

Miles bit his lip, “forgive me for assuming that all Alphas want to feel the seasons when they arrive.”

Simon only shook his head, “I used to…but, all it does is remind me that there is something else going on outside of here...better get used to being dead,” this was said with air of gallows humor, “but better not offer at all...I have no information for you.  It was me, I killed her.”

“Stop trying with that excuse.  I know you didn’t do it.”

A shrug, and then the Alpha turned away from him.  Not to leave, but just to lean against the countertop.

It took all of Miles’ resolve to remain calm, “I wasn’t offering you things to exchange for information.  I am offering you a job.  I want you to prosecute again.”

Simon’s shoulders piqued as he turned slightly to look a Miles, “A what?”

“You heard me.”

A series of laughter, “Forgive me, Edgeworth-dono...I am afraid it won’t be as simple as having me take the Bar Exam again, as I hear you forced your mate to-”

“Funny. You know of my mate, and yet you didn’t realize I wasn’t an Alpha-“

Simon’s expression was oily, “I can’t believe someone as progressive as you would be so old fashioned- you know that there are Alphas who like to be the “omega” to another Alpha...we already spoke of at least one...and there are omega / omega pairings,” his eyes flashed at Miles, “me, personally, I go both ways…”

“I did not need to know that-“

“I knew about your mate, because I heard Gavin screaming about the audacity of him being brought down by your disgraced mate’s Beta lackey (a second time)...and his turncoat (his words not mine) brother...they got him in a nice and comfy private cell on 13. Mommy and Daddy Gavin even convinced the Warden to let their perfect pedigree son remain free of suppressants,” Simon gave a bark of laughter, 

“Idiot. That bastard Warden makes sure there are more Omegas around then…” he slammed the desk as he laughed, “I’d love to see that frigid prissy Alpha come undone. Bet he rips up those perfect nails of his in frustration.”

“Hopefully without the risk to any Omegas,” Miles coughed as Simon continued to laugh at his own joke.

Miles filed away that information. It seemed that not even the prison system could avoid giving favorable treatment to member associated to high-ranked families. He would have to let Klavier know this information. Doubtful he’d been informed...Klavier had disinherited himself from them prior to Kristoph’ second conviction...as noble as Klavier’s actions were, it would make the Alpha vulnerable. Hopefully, Klavier realized this himself and was taking precautions against being taken against his will by his former pack.

“We are getting off track.  To answer your question as to why I am here: I am the Chief Prosecutor, and you yourself were a prosecutor of renowned talent. I wouldn’t be doing my best job if I didn’t utilize you to undo this Dark Age of the Law.”

Simon’s snorted sardonically, “By using me to mock the very system? Edgeworth-dono, don’t you think you would be risking your career, and the chances of other Omegas who wish to one day be in your shoes, to let a convicted killer prosecute other criminals?”

“Perhaps,” Miles crossed his arms, “but I am willing to take the risk, if it means putting your Psychology skills to good use.  The Court needs Prosecutors with interdisciplinary specializations, aside from Whip Fighting and music.”

“It’s been seven years-”

“The Warden has informed me that you have very much been honing your skills,” Miles stated, “You’ve been reading law books from the prison library.  The Court Registrar has informed me that you’ve sent your hawk for information regarding the case that landed you in prison and possibly related curious. That’s curious action for someone who claims guilt, but hasn’t used their research for an appeal...even to just commute your death penalty to a life sentence.  If I had to put my best bet on it, I’d say you were conducting an investigation.”

A deep growl came from the other side of the glass, Simon was turning around with a vicious look.  He could feel a press of something, there was a noise of something hitting the glass, but Simon hadn’t attacked the glass- his arms were still shackled. There was a frustrated snarl.

Miles couldn’t help the eye-roll, “Really? Using your pheromones to attack; as heavily suppressed as you are?  Do you want to injure yourself-”

“Don’t jape,” the Alpha growled, “why are you doing this?”

“I told you already.”

Simon slammed his hands on the counter on his side of the glass, “No. Why are you actually doing this.  No one has cared about my sentence aside from my sister, why you? Why now as the hangman begins to weave my noose?”

Miles sat back in his chair, sussing out his thoughts.  Did he tell Simon his theory about the crucial evidence that may exonerate Simon might be heading its way back to Earth? That there were whispering of the Syndicate and the legendary Phantom being on the move?”

He looked at the Alpha across from him- tall and built, still primed, despite their death being eight month away.  Simon, adamant that he is rotting away, while all the ready for a fight.  

No. There was something else here.  Another missing piece of the puzzle that  Simon was determined to keep the truth from him for now.  Maybe when enough trust had built up betwen them, Simon might confide in him the real reason he locked himself away.  Best to tell him something else,

“Because I know what it’s like.”

Curiosity was plain on Simon’s face but he allowed Miles to continue without a word,

“I know what it’s like to want to throw your life away, because you have concluded. Through your own twisted logic that you are guilty.  I won’t lie to you, I believe you innocent.  However, I cannot force you to tell me the truth; you have your reasons for wanting to be here on Death Row. Reasons that you rejected your Clans repeated asks for clemency to spare you from being destroyed-”

Miles had been surprised to find, while reading over State v. Blackquill, that after his sentence had been handed down, that both Blackquill and Cykes had asked for the courts to reconsider the death penalty. Blackquill was understandable, Aura was Simon’s sister after all...and they were the only two in America...should Aura fail to produce an heir, the power would shift back to the Yuugami clan in Japan. Blackquill was an old house in the Americas, the first major house to immigrate and establish itself...no doubt Aura wanted to keep it that way.

Cykes was more surprising considering that Simon had admitted to cutting down one of their own.  The request had come from the victim’s daughter...the rumored betrothed to the Alpha across from him.   That’s what didn’t make any sense.  Simon was, despite his wild ways, traditional.  There would be no reason for him to murder his sister’s intended and the teacher he had devoted himself, especially if a match had been made for him…he would have seen it as an honor that his teacher wanted him as a son.

He would have to glean the information out of Athena one way or another when she arrived.  She had been just as glib to him about the betrothal. And by glib, pretending that such a betrothal didn’t exist.  

The young Omega had approached him and Wright in Europe, had asked them (well specifically him, the Omega) to foster her in America while starting out on her law career. Wright might not yet see how Athena was connected to Blackquill; Miles sensed it was prudent to keep it that way for now.  Politically, Miles could not pass up the opportunity to fostering someone from a prestigious Omega house such as Cykes.  Especially given, his own House’s sad state,

“I can however, offer you an opportunity to taste the life you’ve abandoned.  Maybe it’s my own selfishness to hope you’ll change your mind and tell the truth-”

“I have confessed-”

Miles shrugged, “Yes you confessed.  I did too once, and thank goodness I had someone there in my corner to show me what I fool I was-”

“And you want to do this for me?”

Miles allowed himself a slight smirk, “If you’ll allow me...if you’ll allow yourself to free yourself from the prison of your mind-”

Simon shook his head, for the first time, Miles could see a look of anguish upon the young man’s face, “I cannot.  To do so, would be shameful to my teacher’s legacy.  I must suffer for my actions.”

Miles nodded, “I see.  So you’re going to try to prove my theory wrong then.”

The arrogant smirk was back in place upon the man’s face, “Yes.”

“Well, then.  At the very least, would you just indulge a silly Omega who probably shouldn’t have been made Chief Prosecutor?”

Simon’s eyebrow quirked, “For what reason?”

“I’d like to give the Elites the vapors.  They’re already spitting at my very existence in the higher echelons of society. That, and the that I managed to restore my mate’s badge and litigation rights...why not really send them into convulsions in my asking you to prosecute. The Warden tells me you have a propensity for mischief.”

“What about your mate?  Aren’t you afraid to unleash me on him? He’s only a middle-weight...”

Miles shrugged, “My mate has toppled many an Alpha criminal in court regardless of weight or social standing...you won’t be an issue; As I can no longer prosecute as often I used to, he’ll need someone like you to keep him on his toes.” Miles made a low growl, “But-if that hawk of yours leaves so much as a scratch on him or his associates, you will see how vicious I can be.”

Simon’s laughter was low, “Ah yes. You were once known as the ‘Demon Prosecutor’..” Miles bit the inside of his cheek at the sound of his former persona.  The name wasn’t spat at him, as most often did.  No, Simon’s mention of it was full of mirth and mischievousness within it; As if Blackquill was impressed by Miles’ sordid and regretable past,

“Alright, Edgeworth-dono.  I’ll play your little game…only because I am growing bored of this place and I want to at least live a bit before I am asked to dance over the trapdoor.”

The alpha was baiting him, but Miles pushed it aside.  He had what he wanted: Simon’s cooperation.

Miles nodded, “I am glad to hear...but don’t forget the rest of our conversation.” 

Simon made a dismissive shrug, “If you some how manage the impossible, my life will be yours Edgeworth-dono.”

Miles’ lips quirked, “Mmm...a life-debt. You really are a samurai, Mr. Blackquill.”

“You’re familiar with the lore?” Simon seemed impressed.  Miles only offered an enigmatic smile; he figured admitting his love of the Steel Samurai would probably deduct some of the credence he’d gained,

“You’ll need to be supervised at all times of course.  You can’t go into the field I am afraid, only court.  I am assigning a detective- a Beta- to supervise and assist you, will that be an issue?”

“Aren’t all the detectives Betas?” Simon scoffed.

“His name is Bobby Fullbright...you’ll be meeting him tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Simon looked surprised. Miles checked his watch and noted the time.  He had to pick up Trucy from school, and then get to bed early.  Wright’s new associate’s plane would be arriving early tomorrow morning.  He hoped Trucy wouldn’t be too upset in him not joining her in Nine Tails Vale tomorrow.

“Yes, tomorrow.  I’m afraid you have limited time amongst us, Mr. Blackquill. I don’t intend to waste having you back in the courts for a second.”

The Alpha smiled, “Of course. Edgeworth-dono.  I hope you will not be disappointed in me”

Miles nodded and motioned to the guards that he was done, “I’ll have your surcoat sent for. It will be nice to see the Blackquill crest grace the courts again.”

***

“Have you even told Apollo about his new co-worker?” Miles said as he signed off on the file.  Wright was lounging in one of the barrel-chairs that Miles decorated his nest with.  The nest wasn’t traditional as most Omegas tended to keep.  It was more like an office, but it made him feel safe.  That was the point of a nest, wasn’t it?

He could hear Phoenix stretch, most likely wrinkling the new bespoke suit that Miles had presented him with the day that the news of Wright passing the Bar was announced.  Wright had been wearing the suit around the house and when they relaxed together like this.  It was good that Wright was getting comfortable in his new clothes but, Miles internally groused, this suit wasn’t meant to be like the others…

The other being the collection of other suits, including Wright’s original cheap blue suit, that were in various states of tattered messes due to Miles’ heats.  If Wright thought he was using Miles’ gift as “scenting fodder”, he would have the suit framed.  Such art was  too nice to be used in such a manner.

“Nah.  Trucy convinced me to surprise him,” Miles could hear the smile in Phoenix’s voice.  He turned to look at Wright,

“Is it fair to devil the man who ultimately cleared your name?”

Phoenix sat up (Miles winced at the wrinkles.  He’d have have to have Bellnard take it out for a pressing), “It’s not deviling him.  Apollo’s been whining about the Agency to return back to a functional law firm.  Me showing up in my suit, with a new associate, and a paid subscription of JSTOR is my way of making his dreams come true.”

Miles rolled his eyes, “To think, my prosecutors will lose to such a lackadaisical Alpha and his partners…”

Phoenix didn’t respond, “I’ve been wanting to keep it all a surprise, but also, it’s not like Polly would understand why I converted the small side room into a place if Athena or Trucy decide to want to make used of it as a nest…”

Wright was still holding out for Trucy to present, it seemed, “and what if she’s an Alpha, Wright? Will you take measures to ensure that Athena will be safe?  She may be my foster, but as we are married, the responsibility falls on you a Maya as well.”

“I am sure Athena will be able to handle herself.  She seems pretty spunky,” he laughed, “To be honest, I assumed she was an Alpha when we met her-  I hope Apollo will be able to handle two go-getting ladies in the office.”

Miles felt his lips quirk at the mention of Apollo.  If he were to be quite honest, he had a soft-spot for the young Beta that was the only official attorney of Wright’s agency. Apollo had helped bring Wright and Gavin back to the Courts; he was bright spot in this truly dark age.  Perhaps it was the Omega in him and something about Apollo, that made Miles want to see Apollo, as Miles saw Trucy...but Apollo was very much an adult and independent.  For now he would have to settle for Apollo being loosely adopted into their ragtag pack; regardless whether or not Justice realized it,

“I am sure Mr. Justice, as he is so oft in saying, ‘will be fine’,” he put away his file and went to invade the inviting space of his mate’s lap.   Mating season was still a few weeks off, but it didn’t mean Miles didn't have pre-season bouts of fatigue and neediness.  There was so much ahead in the coming months…

Phoenix was happy to receive him, wrapping his arms around him and filling Miles’ senses with a comforting scent that was inherently Phoenix’s.  He felt Phoenix’s fingers tug at the cravat, pulling it away and unbuttoning Mile’s shirt just enough so that Miles’ mating scar was exposed.  The spot was marked - years of scar tissue built up; physical proof of their bond.  It was Phoenix’s favorite spot on Miles’ body (among the many the man had for Miles body).  His mate kissed him there, sucked on the spot a bit, flooding Miles tired body with endorphins. A hand brushed against Miles backside, indicating that his mate had other intentions for their evening beyond relaxation.

He opened his eyes to look at Phoenix’s unasked question.  

Trucy was downstairs doing her homework.

The courier was coming to pick up the files to process Miles authorization to allow Simon to prosecute.  Bellnard would have to receive the courier..

Athena was on her connecting flight to Los Angeles, and would arrive early morning and in her words, “raring to get to work!”

Apollo was….Apollo was probably fine somewhere- at home, or maybe out with the Terran Clan’s heir…- he wouldn’t be aware of such things that Miles was feeling now. 

 An alpha’s intentions...the scent of inducing pheromones that were overriding Miles’ need for order and preparation, and giving into a baser instinct.

“Babe?” Phoenix asked, as he leaned up to kiss Miles, “What do you want to do tonight? You’ve got that look in your eyes-”

“The look?”

“The one you get when you feel you’re holding the world together…,” the kiss was deep.  Hard and full of Wright’s love and adoration for him; he pulled back, “you’re not alone anymore, Miles-”

“I never was, Wright. Not since you came back into my life-”

A smile, “You know what I mean....I am back officially- there’s a lot to do to make a lot right, but we’ll do it together.”

Phoenix leaned back in the seat looking up at him, waiting for Miles to make the decision on the evening’s proceedings.  Miles felt his hands smoothing over his mate’s chest, traveling up to touch the spot at the juncture of Phoenix’s neck where the mate to Miles’ mating scar lay under the fabric.

“Promise me?” Miles asked, tugging at Wright’s tie; his decision made.  The noise of delight, his Alpha made, sent a spike of arousal through Miles’ body. Wright’s hands were pulling him closer to press against Phoenix’s groin.  He shut down his mental objections about messing up Wright’s suit...if things got too rough this evening, he could always have another made up in time before Wright went back to court.

He was tugged down for another kiss;  Wright’s vow pressed fully upon his lips.