#also his attorney and everyone on their team is disgusting

[beardedmrbean]

WASHINGTON (TND) — The House Ethics panel announced it has found “substantial evidence” that Republican Rep. George Santos broke multiple laws.

The panel conducted an investigation into the New York congressman and released its findings on Thursday, adding that it referred the information to the Justice Department.

A news release notes the panel determined Santos:

Knowingly caused his campaign committee to file false or incomplete reports with the Federal Election Commission

Used campaign funds for personal purposes

Engaged in fraudulent conduct in connection with RedStone Strategies LLC

Engaged in knowing and willful violations of the Ethics in Government Act as it relates to his Financial Disclosure Statements filed with the House

Santos, 35, who represents New York, has maintained his innocence, insisting he is the victim of a “witch hunt.” He has resisted all calls to resign, saying he intends to run for reelection next year.

He took to social media to speak out against the Committee's findings.

"If there was a single ounce of ETHICS in the 'Ethics committee', they would have not released this biased report," he wrote on X, whcih is the social media platform formerly known as Twitter. "The Committee went to extraordinary lengths to smear myself and my legal team about me not being forthcoming (My legal bills suggest otherwise). It is a disgusting politicized smear that shows the depths of how low our federal government has sunk. Everyone who participated in this grave miscarriage of Justice should all be ashamed of themselves ... I’ve come to expect vitriol like this from political opposition but not from the hallowed halls of public service."

He went on to say that he "will remain steadfast in fighting for my rights and for defending my name in the face of adversity. I am humbled yet again and reminded that I am human and I have flaws, but I will not stand by as I am stoned by those who have flaws themselves. I will continue on my mission to serve my constituents up until I am allowed. I will however NOT be seeking re-election for a second term in 2024 as my family deserves better than to be under the gun from the press all the time."

In October, prosecutors said Santos allegedly stole the identities of people who donated to his campaign, as well as repeatedly used their credit cards without their permission. Prosecutors said some of the stolen money ended up in his own bank account.

As alleged, Santos was charged with stealing people’s identities and making charges on his own donors’ credit cards without their authorization, lying to the FEC and, by extension, the public about the financial state of his campaign," Breon Peace, who is a United States Attorney for the Eastern District of New York, said in a separate news release."

"Santos falsely inflated the campaign’s reported receipts with non-existent loans and contributions that were either fabricated or stolen," Peace added. "This Office will relentlessly pursue criminal charges against anyone who uses the electoral process as an opportunity to defraud the public and our government institutions.”

The latest charges include the following:

One count of conspiracy to commit offenses against the United States

Two counts of wire fraud

Two counts of making materially false statements to the Federal Election Commission (FEC)

Two counts of falsifying records submitted to obstruct the FEC

Two counts of aggravated identity theft

One count of access device fraud

Prosecutors said he also stole from his own family members.

The defendant -- a Congressman -- allegedly stole the identities of family members and used the credit card information of political contributors to fraudulently inflate his campaign coffers,” District Attorney Anne T. Donnelly noted in the release. “We thank our partners in the US Attorney’s Office and the FBI as we work together to root out public corruption on Long Island.”

According to prosecutors, Santos allegedly charged more than $44,000 to his campaign using cards belonging to contributors without their knowledge. In one case, he charged $12,000 to a contributor’s credit card and transferred the “vast majority” of that money into his personal bank account, prosecutors said.

The charges, said prosecutors, are in addition to the seven counts of wire fraud, three counts of money laundering, one count of theft of public funds, and two counts of making materially false statements to the United States House of Representatives that were charged in the original indictment.

He was initially arrested in May on a 13-count federal indictment, which charged him with using funds earmarked for campaign expenses on designer clothes and other personal expenses and improperly obtaining unemployment benefits meant for Americans who lost work because of the pandemic.

Santos was also accused of falsely reporting to the Federal Elections Commission that he had loaned $500,000 to his campaign in an attempt to convince Republican Party officials that he was a serious candidate, when he actually had less than $8,000 in his personal accounts.

Santos, who likely faces a lengthy prison term if convicted, was elected to Congress in November and sworn in as the U.S. Representative for New York’s Third Congressional District on January 7, 2023.

[valkyriesexual]

the decision that sealed AH’s fate... a decision that will be felt by survivors for YEARS to come

Azacarte’s decision to allow cameras to livestream the depp v. heard case likely ensured that the jury would find for depp in this case.  It has also been one of the most damaging decisions for survivors of domestic violence in recent years.

I. AH’s Fight to Keep the Trial Untelevised 

AH’s legal team attempted to exclude cameras from the courtroom. Depp’s lawyer welcomed the cameras. He said that Heard had already “trashed” Depp in the media, and should not be allowed to hide at trial. 

One of AH’s attorneys, Elaine Bredehoft said of the potential media exposure, “What they’ll do is take anything that’s unfavorable — a look... They’ll take out of context a statement, and play it over and over and over and over again.”  She was 100% correct.  Remember the TikToks alleging that AH blowing her nose was her snorting cocaine on the witness stand? Yeah. Everyone saw this coming.  And AH’s legal team tried to tell Azacarte.  Why didn’t she listen?

AH had to relive incidents of physical, sexual, verbal, and emotional abuse on the stand.  In her final appearance in the case, she said it was “humiliating” to relive those moments in front of cameras.  Global humiliation, if you remember, is something depp promised to inflict on AH.

---

---

AH’s legal team pointed to the provisions in Virgina Supreme Court rule § 19.2-266 which state that (2) coverage of the following types of judicial proceedings shall be prohibited... proceedings concerning sexual offenses... and (3) coverage of the following categories of witnesses shall be prohibited... victims and families of victims of sexual offenses”.  AH’s attorney argued that AH would be testifying about her experience as a victim of sexual assault, and that therefore cameras should be disallowed. Azcarate did not accept that reading of the statute, finding the rule does not apply to civil cases.

In justifying her decision to televise the trial, she said, “I don’t see any good cause not to do it.”

II. Virginia Lawyers Weigh in on the Unusualness of the Decision

Joe King, prolific criminal defense lawyer in Virgini  said “It’s very exceptional [to have cameras in the courtroom] in Virginia,” he said. “We’ve always objected to that. There is so much going on in a big trial. I don’t think lawyers need that distraction.” (quoted in Variety)

 In 2012, a judge in Charlottesville refused to allow cameras at the trial and sentencing of George Huguely, a UVA lacrosse player who was convicted of killing his ex-girlfriend. The judge held that the cameras would have a harmful effect on witnesses and potential jurors in a future civil case. The Virginia Supreme Court upheld the judge’s decision.

III. Domestic Violence Experts Weigh in on the Decision’s Impact

Michele Dauber, Stanford Law Professor: “Allowing this trial to be televised is the single worst decision I can think of in the context of intimate partner violence and sexual violence in recent history. It has ramifications way beyond this case.” (quoted in Variety)

Michelle Simpson Tuegel, an attorney who has represented victims of sex offenses in high-profile cases including the survivors from USA Gymnastics: “They see someone who is not only being televised, but is being taken apart in such a hateful way,” she said. “Livestreaming it is really just a way to magnify what survivors are going through. I’m saddened and disgusted by how it is going to create a discourse of scaring people from seeking justice and speaking out about what they’ve been through.” (quoted in Variety)

Ruth Glenn, CEO of the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence: “I can’t imagine what this might be doing to someone who may eventually want to seek safety and support”.

Jessica Taylor, a prominent psychologist who specializes in sexual violence and victim-blaming, previously a senior lecturer in Forensic and Criminological Psychology at the University of Derby: “ It’s been televised as if it is a reality TV show, like entertainment... a by-product of televising an entire hearing is that millions of people can watch clips and shots of Amber and scrutinize every breath she takes, often using totally debunked techniques which claim to be able to use body language and eye contact to detect deception and manipulation... every woman who has ever been abused or been through a court process like this - or is awaiting a case hearing - is watching on in horror.”  Dr. Taylor noted women who are currently awaiting case hearings in family court and criminal court have told her they are considering “retracting or pulling out” after witnessing the online abuse and harassment of Heard.   “They are frightened by the way amber has been pulled apart, mocked and humiliated,” she said. “They realize that if that could happen to a millionaire actress with a legal team, anything could happen to them as just normal women trying to navigate a court process.”   (quoted in the Independent)

Victim's advocate Tunisia Offray said that long before the verdict, she was worried the highly watched trial was even happening: "That's a victim's worst nightmare. Like, your superpower is when you can tell your story freely. It kind of sets you free. It helps you heal. So, when you start silencing victims, you know, through the court system, that can be a scary thing.. My fear was that this would be the case with this and that other perpetrators, who are perpetrators, will feel empowered by the fact that they can now march into the court and say, 'I want her to be quiet and not tell her story." (quoted by cbs news)

Carmen McDonald, director of legal services at Los Angeles Center for Law and Justice, said she's concerned all of it could be triggering. "I agree that both of them have been raked through the coals in the media and it's unfortunate and it's sensationalized and that's what also makes it harder... I am certain that in homes that are suffering abuse, this is being talked about as a way to say, 'See, you're wrong,' or 'This is what's going to happen to you... This just demonstrates how difficult the legal barriers are for survivors.” (quoted by CBS news)

Charlotte Proudman, a prominent family law lawyer who specialises in gender-based violence: “It is never acceptable to laugh and mock a complainant of sexual violence. Let’s not forget that Amber Heard was found by a High Court Judge in the UK to be a victim of domestic abuse at the hands of Depp... The memes serve to undermine her, and in doing so, they send out a strong message to survivors that if you speak out, you could be laughed at, and ridiculed, this might discourage women from seeking support from friends or family and they might be reluctant to report abuse to the police.”  (quoted in the Independent)

A spokesperson for Women’s Aid, a leading domestic abuse charity:  “A domestic abuse case being used as entertainment for memes and jokes is likely to have a long-term impact on how seriously people take domestic abuse.” (quoted in the Independent)

Ruth Davison, chief executive of Refuge, UK’s largest provider of shelters for domestic abuse victims: “When large numbers of people are seeking to discredit or mock a woman talking about her experience of alleged abuse so publicly, concerns survivors may have about not being believed will be amplified.”  (quoted in the Independent)

IV. It Didn’t Have to Be Like This

Judicial officer Penney Azacarte had numerous excuses not to televise the trial.  Judge Azacarte could have relied on cultural norm in Virginia of NOT televising cases, even high-profile ones of significant public interest. She could cite the  Huguely case, which was upheld by Virginia’s supreme court.

There’s the statute itself, which gives her complete discretion as to whether to allow cameras.  She could have simply said, “it will be a circus, I’m not allowing cameras for the purposes of maintaining decorum”. 

In that same statute, there are provisions specifically excluding coverage of sexual offenses and sexual assault victims.  This is particularly relevant given that AH’s legal team flagged for Judge Azacarte that AH would be testifying to acts of sexual violence in the pre-trial hearing on whether or not to televise the case.  Azacarte decided those provisions don’t apply in civil cases, meaning that all survivors of domestic or sexual violence sued for defamation by their abusers in Virginia risk having their testimony televised to the world.

Then there’s Judge Azacarte’s ability to engage in critical thinking. As a judicial officer who has been sitting on the bench for 14+ years, it’s a skill she presumably exercises often.  Was it so unexpected that the combination of (1) an unsequestered jury, (2) a litigant with a well documented history smearing AH by using paid content creators and bots to boost that content, (3) depp’s own attorney (adam waldman) being removed from the case pre-trial for leaking of confidential information to twitter, and (4) cameras livestreaming every minute of the trial would create a perfect storm of conditions that would completely prevent AH from receiving a fair trial, the fucking foundation of our judicial system?  Of course not.  DV advocates, along with AH’s own team, were arguing this from day one.

I don’t know why Azacarte made the decisions she did.  But I do know that she had other options.  And now, even if you believe depp, the circumstances around his “win” are so obviously tainted. And if you claim to care about male survivors of domestic violence (although I think that’s generally an argument being made mostly by men, arguing in bad faith when engaging with actual DV advocates, in between tweets calling women lying whores), male survivors in the future will be subject to the exact same treatment.  You think it’s hard for male survivors to come forward now? Imagine the chilling effect that the potential of having TikTok memes made of their testimony will be.

[if you found this post helpful or informative, please consider subscribing to my substack, it does take me a decent amount of time to research, write, and source posts like this, and substack subscriptions are deeply appreciated]

[master-sass-blast]

Children of the Gods: Part Three, Chapter Two.

I had to input every single italic you see in this fic by hand because Tumblr doesn’t hold text format when I paste it innnnnn. *pained smile*

Please give this chapter some love, because that was fucking painful to do.

Summary: The aftermath of capturing Allison proves messy -both in dealing with the teen's evident trauma, and in all the skeletons in various closets that get unleashed soon after.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Frank Castle x Karen Page, and Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin.

Rating: M for gun violence, depictions of death and injuries, depictions of emotional trauma, and gratuitous use of the word “fuck.”

Word count: 8.9k.

Set after “Children of the Gods: Part Three, Chapter One.”

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @leo-writer, @emma-frxst, @sadstone-s

“What the hell were you thinking!”

“Ooh, careful there, Doohan,” Wade snarks, head rolling to indicate he’s rolling his eyes. “Get any more agitated and you’ll be saying all the no-no words.”

Scott scowls at Wade. “Stuff it, Wilson.”

“Every damn night, laser pointer.”

A mixture of grimaces, sighs, and groans go up through the crowd.

You’re all gathered in the medical wing of Xavier’s –the X-Force and nearly all of the X-Men. Allison’s off being examined by Dr. McCoy and Alyssa –to make sure she’s stable enough to be taken out of the handcuffs and the suppression band—and Frank and Karen are sequestered in a separate room until it's clear how everything's going to shake out.

Because, naturally, there’s been a wrench thrown in the situation.

Or maybe the whole damn toolbox, you mentally amend as Wade and Scott resume arguing.

“We cannot harbor a mob criminal here—”

“She’s thirteen, Summers!” Wade snaps. The eyes on his mask narrow into slits. “She’s not a criminal –and her parents’ choice don’t automatically make her guilty!”

“Murder, illegal theft and possession of firearms, assault, stalking, kidnapping,” Scott starts listing, ticking off each of Allison’s misdeeds on his fingers.

“She lost her family,” Nathan interjects, voice going to gravel. “Where the fuck were all of you when she needed support? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

The room goes silent. Many of the X-Men members look away or hang their heads slightly.

“We had no way of knowing that Allison was a mutant,” Ororo speaks up. “Without the proper information, we can’t help. It’s unfortunate, yes, but out of our control all the same.”

“But you know now,” Wade argues. “You knew with Russell. You knew with all the kids at Essex house. You turned your back on him and those kids, just like you’re turning your back on Allison now.” He scoffs, disgusted. “Same shit, different day. You’re all a bunch of cowardly cocksuckers.”

“We do have limits,” Professor Xavier speaks up from his chair. “Russell and the other members of Essex house were considered wards of the state. Legally, that meant Essex house had custody of them until they turned eighteen. We wrote petitions. We did as much as we could to bring attention to the issue. Unfortunately, it got swept under the rug or stonewalled by anti-mutant members of the legal system. As for Allison…” He sighs. “Taking in wards with criminal connections put the school at risk. Not just for fear of retaliation –as would certainly be a risk with Miss Ricci’s connections to the mafia—but also our funding and licensing. As an orphaned mutant, she is certainly deserving of our help—” he pauses to glare sternly at Scott and a few of the more stubborn, self-righteous members present “—but we have to consider the needs of our other residents and students, too.”

“I think we’re overlooking that Allison is here right now,” Jean pipes up. “Whether or not she stays with us is one thing, but we need to decide what to do for at least the next forty-eight hours.”

“She stays here,” you say automatically. “As far as we know, she has no other guardians, potentially even nowhere to go. I don’t think it’s gonna kill us to give her a bed and some food to eat.”

“Absolutely not,” Scott fires back –and, behind him, Angel and Iceman nod. “She’s far too aggressive to possibly put the students at risk.”

“She’s agitated and traumatized,” you reason, “but that doesn’t mean she’s going to lash out at people left and right.”

“Doesn’t she have a guardian of sorts?” Neena pipes up. “Artemis? Has anyone gotten ahold of them?”

“We reached out with the number Miss Ricci gave us,” Xavier explains. “The call picked up, but there wasn’t any verbal response for the duration of the call.”

Well, that bodes well. “What about her attorney?” you ask. “If we can’t keep her here, wouldn’t her attorney be able to arrange some sort of safe place for her to stay.”

“Thus far, we haven’t been able to reach her attorney.”

And that bodes even worse. You fight the urge to sigh or roll your eyes, and instead mentally curse monkey wrenches and whoever thought to invent the damn things.

“For the time being, I’ve contacted some of our external resources” –the glance Xavier shoots at both you and Piotr tells you that it’s your uncle and Alexandra—“to help with matters until the dust settles. They should be arriving soon, so—”

There’s a loud crash from down the hall, the sound of glass shattering, and an angry screech that sounds suspiciously like, “Fuck you, Castle!”

You give into the urge to sigh before booking it towards the sound of chaos and rage. Great. Now it’s an entire toolshed.

***

Subduing Allison this time, at least, is easier for several reasons.

First, she’s still wearing the repression cuff on her wrist. Without her powers –without a way to pop in and out of this existence, specifically—she’s much easier to catch.

Second, she’s tired. It’s not just the bags under her eyes or the sweat glistening at her furrowed brow. She’s stumbling unevenly, panting as she tries to exact her revenge.

Third, Illyana happens to show up at the exact same time with your uncle and Alexandra (and Nikolai as well, though he has less involvement in the “subduing process”).

Alex reacts fastest. She hooks one strong arm around Allison’s waist, then scoops her away from Karen and a hangdog-looking Frank. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Allison, however, doesn’t seem to agree. (Though whether it’s due to general teenage contrariness or trauma-induced rage, the jury’s still out.

…Actually, it’s probably both.)

“You don’t even get it, Castle!” Allison snaps with a manic grin, eyes wide and haunted. “You killed a good man. My dad was getting out! He was going to testify against them—”

Alex clamps a hand over the teen’s mouth, making her cut herself off with a garbled grunt. “I said enough.”

Allison thrashes in the older woman’s iron-clad grasp –to no avail, unsurprisingly. Her face scrunches up, then her jaw starts flexing. There’s a moment where her expression goes slack when Alex doesn’t react, then her nose scrunches up again and her jaw starts working harder.

Alex sighs, then starts carrying Allison back down the hall (she’s astonishingly unfazed by been chomped down on). “Come on. Let’s get you calmed down, malen’kiy.”

At the other end of the hall, Neena pokes her head into the fray. “Someone who calls herself Artemis is at the front door.”

Professor Xavier nods, then says, “Please escort her back to Miss Ricci’s room,” before wheeling after Alex and Artemis.

You look between Neena and the Professor –then, in the interest of going where you’re actually allowed to be (and not being bored out of your mind because you’ll be literally shut out of the room), you head towards the foyer.

…

“Do you think Frank was set up to stop the trial?”

Your uncle shrugs; the two of you have taken up a spot at the back of the room, where you can watch things unfold and gossip like the two old ladies you are in spirit. “It’s possible. It’s also possible that it was retribution for Allison being a mutant. The Ricci syndicate is notoriously… intolerant.”

You grimace. You certainly understand just how far people will go against their own flesh and blood for intolerance’s sake. “Blood and water.”

Your uncle nods, expression equally sour. “You fucking said it, punk.”

There’s not much point in hashing it out any further –both from the standpoint of “forbidden knowledge” and digging up old trauma—so you settle back into watching Artemis go through the mandatory security check.

She’s tall, with broad shoulders. Her hair’s dark, just starting to streak with silver at the temples, and her eyes are deep, intense, borderline black color. Her nose is slightly crooked –comes with the territory in this walk of life—and she’s dressed in black motorcycle wear and combat boots.

She honestly looks so fucking familiar.

You frown, brows pinching together as you try and place her face in your memory. Failing your own abilities at recollection, you lean over and whisper, “Is she one of your team members? I swear I’ve seen her before.”

“Uh –no,” your uncle replies (and it’s too fast and shaky, but you’re too caught up in figuring out whom the fuck you’re looking at to notice). “I mean –everyone has a doppelganger, right?”

“I guess.” You squint at Artemis, as though physically narrowing your eyes will help your brain puzzle things out—

And then Alex strides into the foyer –wiping the hand that Allison bit, and if you look close enough you’re pretty sure you can still see a few bloody teeth marks—and the cloud of confusion lifts from your mind.

“Oh!” you gasp quietly. “That’s why she looks familiar! She looks like Alex.” You look from the Rasputin matriarch, to the other black-leather clad woman, then back again. “She looks… a lot like Alex, actually.” You laugh softly –coincidence is a hell of a thing—then keep rambling when your uncle doesn’t say anything. “Two women who love the color black and carry enough weapons on their person to stock an army. You’d think the universe broke the mold with Alex, huh?”

Your uncle shifts from foot to foot next to you, but says nothing.

“You really weren’t kidding about the whole ‘doppelganger’ thing, huh.” You cock your head to one side, then frown as another epiphany starts growing in your mind. “Actually… she kind of looks like you, too.”

Your uncle makes a quiet, pained choking noise. “Punk—”

“Yeah, she’s got more of your build…”

“Punk.”

“And her lower lip has that weird lopsided curve like yours—”

“Punk—”

You peer closer at Artemis’s face. “Actually, her nose looks like you took yours and Alex’s and mashed them together—”

“Punk.”

You finally look up at him and take in the pale, wide-eyed, tight-lipped expression on his face. “What?” When he doesn’t say anything, you look at Artemis, then Alex, and then back at him—

Oh God.

Oh God.

Holy fucking shit.

You stare up at your uncle, agape. “Wait a second –you and—”

“Okay, shut the fuck up!” he hisses, panicked, before dragging you out of the foyer and into the nearest hallway.

“You and Alex had a baby,” you blurt –albeit in a voice no louder than a harsh whisper. “Artemis is your and her lovechild!”

He winces, then holds up his hands. “I can explain—”

“I don’t think you can!” you hiss. “Why didn’t you tell me that I have a cousin who happens to be my husband’s half fucking sister! Oh God, does Piotr know? Do any of the Rasputins know?”

“I…” He trails off, then cringes. He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not sure, actually.”

You stare up at him, dumbfounded. “You’re not sure. How are you not sure? Nick knows who you are –what, you think Alex just kept a whole child from his knowledge—”

“I mean, he probably knows that there was a baby at one point—”

“The baby is in this fucking house!” you snap in a quiet growl, arms flailing wildly. “She’s a full grown adult who probably pays taxes and has a 401k going! Why wouldn’t Alex tell her husband—”

“Look,” your uncle interjects, cutting you off. “As far as Alex knows… she thinks she’s… dead?”

You gape. Then, as quietly as you can manage (given the circumstances), you exclaim, “What the fuck!”

“Keep your voice down!” your uncle hisses, gesturing wildly in panic. He looks over his shoulder, then when he’s certain no one overheard you, he sighs and looks back to you. “Look, it’s a long story—”

“I’m sure it fucking is!” You cross your arms over your chest when he winces. “How is it that you know your secret lovechild is alive, but Alex doesn’t? What, did she just abandon her?”

“No, no—”

“Didn’t think so. So what the fuck happened?”

He sighs, shoulder slumping, and runs one hand through his already disheveled hair. “Look –long story short, the people who ‘made’ Alex took the baby—”

“Artemis. Her daughter. Your daughter.”

He purses his lips, but concedes with a nod. “They took her away after she was born and told Alex she was dead –and that’s actually what prompted her to get out, but that’s another story for another day—”

“Okay, hang on a second.” You squeeze your eyes shut and hold up one hand. “Alex thinks her baby is dead –probably one of the most traumatic things in her whole life. You’ve known that she’s alive…” You open your eyes again and fix your uncle with a stern stare. “Okay, how long have you known for?”

He grimaces and shifts uncomfortably. “…well, the US took her, but she didn’t present early, so they turned her loose into the foster system because she didn’t have potential as an ‘asset’—”

“How fucking long?”

He ducks his head, carefully avoiding your gaze. “…tracked her down when she was ten.”

Your eyes widen –and then you slug him in the shoulder. “You fucking colossal asshole!”

He panics again, motioning for you to keep it down while checking over his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up!”

“No! Not only have you lied to Alex for decades—”

“She never asked—”

“A lie by omission is still a fucking lie!” you snap in a gravelly whisper. “So, not only did you lie to her, but you also abandoned your daughter to the mercies of the US foster care system!”

“My life wasn’t safe to keep a kid around!” he hisses back at you. “I couldn’t take care of you, and I couldn’t take care of her! If anything, it was safer for her if the government thought I didn’t know she was alive!”

You sigh, pinch the bridge of your nose, and wave dismissively with your other hand. “Okay –fine. That still doesn’t justify the whole lying thing, but whatever. Does Artemis know that you and Alex are her parents?”

“…Yes. She tracked me down when she was in her twenties and I told her the truth.”

“Well, it sounds like determination runs in the family,” you mutter. “But at least you two have kept in touch…” You look up, see your uncle’s grimace, and sigh. “You didn’t keep in touch with her.”

He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Pretty sure ‘not like that’ is a good answer.” You sigh again, then shrug and put your hands on your hips. “Well, you’ve probably solved your own problem. She’ll probably just tell Alex who she is just to spite you, assuming she got the ‘petty vengeance’ gene too.”

Your uncle’s eyebrows spike to his hairline, and his expression goes through the five stages of grief in a matter of seconds. “She –she can’t—”

“She can and she probably will.”

He hunches over, crouching, and grips the back of his head. “Shitfuckshitfuckshitfuckshitfuck—”

“Myshka?”

You and your uncle both jump, then whirl in unison and give your husband your best convincing, “we’re totally not talking about long lost, hidden family members and other poor life choices” smiles that you can each manage.

(Consider that you don’t look like you just shit your pants, you win.)

Piotr’s forehead wrinkles with concern. “What… is everything alright?”

“Just fine, baby,” you assure him, subtly kicking your uncle so he relaxes. “Just talking about what happens next.”

Piotr nods after a moment, likely picking up on that whatever’s going on right now isn’t life or death and that you’ll fill him in later. “I actually came to find you,” he says, gesturing to your uncle. “Professor Xavier still cannot reach Allison’s lawyer. He has asked for your assistance.”

“Right. Absolutely. On it,” your uncle says with a none-too-convincing smile. He shoots your husband a pair of finger guns, then books it out of the hall and towards the medical wing of the mansion.

Piotr stares after him, then shoots you a confused frown. “Is he okay?”

You shrug. “He’s doing about his usual.” You decide to further sidestep the issue by ambling over to him and giving him a gentle hug. “How are you?” Are doing okay?”

Piotr wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. “I am fine now. Just a little sore.”

“Me too.” You nuzzle your cheek against his burly chest. “We really should invest in that hot tub we keep talking about getting. It’d be great for post-mission recovery.”

“Hot tubs are expensive, myshka,” he chuckles.

“Yes, but we’re not getting any younger. It’d be a good investment in taking care of our bodies.” You tilt your head back and grin up at him. “I thought you were all about that life.”

He sighs and shakes his head, feigning exasperation, but his amused smile is a dead giveaway. “Whatever shall I do with you, myshka?”

You grin wider. “You could kiss me.”

Piotr grins back, then dips his head and presses his lips against yours—

Mikhail appears next to you out of thin air. “Ah. Gross. Big meeting is happening. All hands on deck.”

Piotr rolls his eyes when his elder brother teleports away once more, then looks back down at you and strokes your cheek with his thumb. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, baby.” You unwind your arms from his massive trunk of a torso, then slide your fingers between his as the two of you walk towards the medical wing.

…

“—I am telling you, Charles, not being able to reach this kid’s lawyer is a bad fucking sign.”

You and Piotr walk into a conference room to find your uncle and Professor Xavier locked in a heated argument.

Wade, Nate, and Neena are leaning against the table to watch, occasionally leaning over to whisper bits of commentary to each other (or, in Wade’s case, speak at normal volume).

In the corner of the room, where a couple of armchairs are positioned, Nikolai sits with his two other children; they’re speaking in hushed Russian, but none of them seem too concerned about everything else going on.

“As I previously stated,” Xavier says, words clipped, “we cannot release Miss Ricci without speaking first to her attorney. The X-Men operate as a special law enforcement service, and failure to comply with criminal and civil statutes will have enormous consequences for the Institute—”

“There’s going to be a bunch of fucking ‘enormous consequences’ for the Institute,” your uncle interrupts, growling through clenched teeth, “if you don’t evacuate this building right fucking now! Fuck’s sake, Charles –you hired me as a security advisor; just listen to me.”

Piotr frowns and curls one hand over your shoulder. “What is happening?”

“What’s happening,” a new, strong, feminine voice interjects from the hall, “is that we’re leaving.” Artemis shoulders past your husband –a feat not easily achieved by many—with Allison in tow, then holds up the teen’s arm that has the repression cuff still attached. She glares at Xavier (and God, she really looks like Alex when she does that), then spits out through gritted, bared teeth, “Get this fucking thing off my kid.”

There’s a longsuffering sigh in the hall, and then Alex steps into the doorway. “She has that cuff on for her own safety –as I already told you—”

Artemis whirls, face contorted by a vicious scowl, and snaps, “I didn’t fucking ask for you input!”

(Boy, if that doesn’t just scream ‘repressed trauma and mommy issues.’)

Your uncle looks like he’s about to pass out again, but Alex seems remarkably nonplussed. She merely raises one eyebrow at Artemis, as if to say ‘that’s all you got?’

There’s no way she knows, you think as you watch the two stare each other down. Not with how much she cares about her kids. There’s no fucking way—

“Actually, we’ve got bigger problems,” your uncle pipes up, voice quavering slightly before he clears his throat. “We can’t reach your kid’s shark.”

“They have other clients,” Artemis retorts, upper lip curling in a derisive sneer. Her dark eyes smolder with barely constrained hatred as she tosses a withering glance in his direction (daddy issues, too, this chick won the whole lottery). “Or maybe they got stuck in traffic.”

Your uncle narrows his eyes at that (and now the two of them look so much alike, overcome by ire as they are). “You cannot possibly be that fucking stupid.”

Artemis sucks a breath through her teeth, eyes widening with rage and hurt. “You fucking dick—”

In the corner of the room, Illyana bolts upright before going stock still. Then, she gasps and reaches out towards her mother. “Mama!”

(The way Artemis’s face mars with a pained grimace makes your heart ache.)

Alex tenses, eyes glowing gold as she starts scanning the horizon (presumably checking for heat signatures). “Gde?”

The room goes quiet –and then you hear it.

The sound of engines rumbling –multiple engines—and car wheels crunching against gravel. Doors thumping open and shut, followed by footsteps. Hushed voices.

You scamper over to the nearest window and float up, just enough to see several men clad in black and Kevlar and carrying rifles stalking towards the front door and around the sides of the house in groups. “Guys with guns. Lots of them.”

“Then get down!” Nate hisses before yanking you back from the window.

“Lights out,” Alex orders before hitting the switch herself. “Get everyone to a reinforced room.”

“There’s a safe room at the end of the hall,” Xavier says before wheeling himself towards the door.

Allison clings to Artemis’s sleeve, much like a baby koala. “What’s going on? What’s going to happen?”

“Go with the Professor,” Artemis says. She quickly –but gently—frees her arm, then clasps the teen’s face with both hands. “Look at me. Listen to the Professor, and stay put until I come get you. Okay?”

Allison’s forehead puckers, and her lower lip starts trembling. “But—”

“Is alright,” Nikolai interjects with a kind, reassuring smile. He gently ushers Allison towards the door, then down the hall before she can protest further.

A few doors down, Karen pokes her head out of the room where she and Frank have holed up. She frowns as she takes in the chaos. “What’s going on?”

“Mafia men with guns!” Wade chirps as he half-skips, half-jogs towards the mansion’s entryway. “Tell your boy to suit up!”

“There’s a safe room at the end of the hall,” Neena adds as she runs after Wade.

Frank squeezes around Karen and kisses her temple before falling in line behind the two assassins.

You step to the side so Karen can run past you, then turn and press a hasty kiss against Piotr’s cheek. “Love you.”

He kisses your cheek in return, equally as brief. “Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu.”

And then the two of you run towards the danger bearing down on your home.

***

In all the firefights you’ve been in, there’s always this moment of silence. A calm before the storm. A moment where everything goes still, while both sides wait for the other to make a move.

You duck behind a wall as the mafia gunmen continue hammering away at the front door, tucking yourself in a shadow. Your stomach tenses, breathing going quick and hard as your mind starts putting a plan together. Don’t want to risk collapsing part of the house by doing a pressure vacuum. Best option is to probably knock them to the ground so the others can jump them.

The door rattles. The wooden portal splits on one side, sending jagged splinters poking out into the air.

You slow your breathing, forcing yourself into a calm, focused state. Wait for them to get past the entryway so you can hit as many of them as possible.

In the back of the house, near the kitchen, you hear glass shatter.

They’re in. You clench your fists at your sides, watching as the front door slowly gives way. Three… two… one…

The door breaks open, swinging inwards as the first gunmen step into the foyer—

And then the door snaps off its hinges and slams into the men, taking them out like bowling pins.

Strike, a small, inane part of your brain giggles.

Shouts go up through the house. You can hear the sounds of rushed footsteps, shattering glass, and what sounds like people being bodyslammed through tables (and, given the type of people fighting for your side, it just might be that). Gunfire pierces the air –and is accompanied by the telltale, metallic plinks of the bullets ricocheting off your husband’s armor.

Angry screams emanate from the front step. Men barge in, firing down the hall, towards some unseen target (likely Alex or Nate, given the door trick).

You wait until as many men are piled into the foyer as possible, then send down a downdraft that blows out the windows on either side of the door.

The gunmen tumble to the floor, swearing in a mixture of English and Italian.

Nate, Wade, and Neena swoop in. They descend upon the mafia men like a pack of wolves, breaking bones, dislocating joints, and cracking skulls as they disarm –and, in some cases “un-alive”—the gunmen.

“It’s raining men!” Wade sings as he runs one of his katanas through the gut of one assailant. “Hallelujah! It’s raining men!” He ramps off a nearby wall, then t-bags another man before stabbing him through the temple. “Amen!”

You crouch, tracking the movement of the scuffle. You tense when you see a couple of the men jump Nathan, then charge towards the railing and dive over when a few more try to break past to run down the hallway. You flip in the air, land in the hallway ahead of them, and unleash a blast of wind right in their faces.

The mafia men fly out through the front door. They sail over half the front drive, then bounce off the gravel surface and roll several times before coming to a stop.

You let out a harsh breath, then dart down the hall towards the kitchen when you hear glass shattering and the sound of Frank bellowing angrily.

The kitchen and rec room are a mess. Glass shards from shattered windows coat the floor, glittering before being crushed underfoot. Doors are cracked from having people slammed into them. The rec room couch is overturned –and is sagging suspiciously on one side, hinting at a cracked frame. The entertainment system is shattered, with smoking bullet holes littering the TV, speakers, and media systems.

Frank has one of the guys pinned down over the sink. He’s snarling as he uses the lip of the sink to choke the guy out. There’s blood smeared his lips and chins, trailing back up to his chin.

Another gunman stalks in through the dining room, gun trained on Frank’s head.

You whip a blast of air at the second man, sending him sailing into the wall so hard the drywall cracks.

He drops to the ground, unconscious.

There’s some terrified shrieking –and then a gunman is punted up and out of the basement stairwell. He sails through the kitchen window headfirst, crumpling in a heap in the hedges outside.

Your husband storms up the staircase, teeth bared in an angry snarl. The waning daylight glints off his metal exterior, almost making him look like some sort of avenging angel. He stops short when he sees you, though; his irate expression vanishes, replaced by concern. “Ty v poryadke?”

You manage a smile and flash him a thumbs up—

And then a truck with a Gatling gun strapped to the roof rolls up to the back door.

“Get down!” Frank hollers before tackling you to the ground behind the kitchen island.

The room explodes into chaos. Bullets plow into the walls, sending up spurts of drywall dust in their wake. Wooden doorframes and floorboards crack, unleashing cascades of splinters in every direction. Glass shatters, raining down upon everything in its reach.

Frank positions himself over you, shielding you as fragmented bullets rain down upon your both. He cups your head with his hands, doing his best to protect you from the hellfire.

Over the din, you can just make out a loud, angry bellow –and then the sound of bullets hitting metal. Heavy, deliberate stomps make the floor shake.

The gunfire cuts off. A shriek pierces the air just before you hear what sounds like a car being tossed into a tree.

(As you’ll discover later, that’s precisely what you heard.)

Frank lifts his head, then carefully rolls off you. He crouches next to you and holds out a hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Your ears are ringing, and you’re pretty sure you’ve got glass shards and splinters in your hair, but you’ve been worse. You take his hand, flinching when you hear the sound of more gunfire outside.

Frank peers over the lip of the island. “Reinforcements. At least five more cars headed our way.”

You suck in a breath. “Piotr—”

“Is holding his own for now,” Frank says.

“I’m gonna help him,” you rasp out. “Make sure everyone in the house that’s not on our side… stays down. And that we’ve still got all our people.”

Frank nods, then runs off towards the foyer.

You catch your breath, then creep towards the back door (better safe than sorry). You flatten yourself against the wall next to the doorway, then peer around the broken frame.

Piotr’s facing off against the new influx of cars. He’s got one hand on the hood of one Range Rover, arm extended out like he’s fending off a five-year-old. With his other hand, he flips another SUV over, causing the thing to land on its roof and putting the vehicle squarely out of commission.

Your stomach sinks when five more Range Rovers tear across the lawn, leaving deep, muddy tracks in their wake –and are followed by three more trucks with Gatling guns attached to the roofs. You sprint out the door, take a flying leap over Piotr, then send out a shockwave of air when you land on the ground.

A few of the cars fly backwards, rolling across the lawn like tumbleweeds. A majority of them, however, manage to stay upright or bump into each other and recover.

Your eyes widen when one of the Gatling gun operators aims directly at you. Shit.

Piotr leaps in front of you, whirling so his back is to the gun. He curls his body over yours, shielding you as gunfire rains down on you both.

You grit your teeth, grunting. You can feel the impact of the gunfire resonating through your husband’s metal body. Worry clutches at your heart when Piotr lets out sharp, ragged groans; he’s largely invulnerable in his armor, not to mention his sense of touch is severely dulled, but you know that with shit like this he’s still feeling some sort of pain –and there’s nothing you can do. You’re both pinned down, and as powerful as your shockwaves are, they’re not enough to stop or even skew the trajectory of a bullet—

Blue light washes over both of you. The sound of the gunfire wanes, replaced by warbling, pinging noises instead.

You peer around Piotr’s side to see Illyana standing between the two of you and the oncoming cars. She has her arms outstretched, palms facing the onslaught of adversaries. A shimmering, sky blue shield with various magical incantations floating through it surrounds all of you, stretching into the sky for at least forty feet.

Illyana grunts. She’s being shoved backwards from the force of impact from the bullets. Her feet are digging into the ground, leaving ruts as she tries to hold her stance. “We need new plan!”

“How about ‘stay alive?’” Piotr shouts back as he digs shrapnel out of the grooves on his arms.

Wade, Neena, Nate, and Frank come barreling out the back door, faces streaked with soot and blood. They dive for the ground, covering the backs of their heads and necks with their hands—

An explosion goes off inside the mansion. The shockwave shatters windows on both the first and second floor, blowing out window frames and trim.

Piotr covers your body with his once more. He cups your head with his hand, shielding you from the falling debris and the worst of the shockwave.

You cough and hack as smoke billows out the broken windows and doors. You do your best to make a vortex to suck the smoke away and send it up into the air. Your lungs burn, and your ears are ringing like a bell from all the gunfire and the explosion—

Four more gunmen emerge from the smoke pouring out the back door.

You snarl, then whip blasts of air at them, slamming them into the exterior walls of the house.

One of them goes down, while the other three are merely stunned.

Mikhail comes barreling out next. He lets out a guttural battle cry, then sucker punches one of the men in the back of the head before aiming a blast of rust colored energy at another’s gut.

The man screams as he sails into the air, arcing over the tree line and disappearing somewhere in the canopies.

The third man aims his gun at Mikhail –then staggers and drops to the ground when a beam of golden energy sears through his chest.

Alex storms out of the smoke with Artemis and your uncle trailing close behind her. She glares down the remaining gunmen and cars, teeth bared in a vicious snarl. Blood is flecked across her face and spattered over her leather jacket. “House is clear!”

“Yeah, except now we’re about to be cleared out!” Wade hollers back. “As in, ‘all sales final, no returns, no exchanges!’”

“If we could make plan,” Illyana screams, voice strained with the effort of holding the shield, “would be very great!”

You look over to Alex –and see her eyes widen. You whirl towards the gunmen just in time to see one of them aim a rocket launcher at all of you. “Oh, for the love of—”

The first hit is technically deflected by Illyana’s shield, insomuch that the projectile and the shield both shatter the moment they meet. The force of the magic breaking sends out a shockwave of blue energy that flies backwards into all of you, knocking those who managed to get up back off their feet and stunning the rest of you.

You groan, head reeling. Your vision clears slowly, casting double images when you move too quickly. Shit.

You can make out Piotr, just next to you. He’s lying face down on the lawn, grunting and moving in slow, clumsy movements. He turns his head, brow furrowing when he sees you, and reaches out towards you.

You extend your hand to grab his –but he’s just out of your reach, no matter how far you strain. Your body feels heavy with fatigue and pain; everything inside you is screaming to get up, to fight, to keep moving because death is knocking right on your door, and you’ll be damned if this is how you go out—

Alex recovers first –no surprise there. She shoves herself to her feet, seething and growling like a feral beast. She hurls a blast of energy at one of the cars –and, from the sounds of the carnage, makes a direct hit. She storms towards the sea of mafia men like an avenging angel, hell bound on vengeance and blood.

Audible gasps go up from the amassed assassins.

You lift your head to see several of the gunmen backing away from the mansion and crossing themselves with shaking hands. You chalk it up to Alex being Alex, and make to drop your head back against the ground once more—

And then you see Allison standing in the ruined doorway.

She’s glaring down the gunmen with a viciousness that doesn’t suit the youthful roundness of her face. Her brows are knit together, and her mouth is twisted into an ugly scowl. Her eyes are glowing a brilliant shade of blue and give off little wisps of azure colored smoke. Her skin and hair are smoking as well, creating an aura around her body. Blood drips down from her nose and onto her shirt –which is stained with ash and soot. There are burn marks and indents on her wrists from where the repression cuff and the handcuffs used to be, respectively, but the restraints themselves are gone.

The ground begins to shake. Two patches of cerulean light appear underneath the grass, growing larger until they form swirling vortexes of magical energy. The ground begins to crumble at the edges of the portals, eroding away and growing wider until they make gaping tunnels that channel so deeply into the earth there’s no telling how far they truly go.

You recoil when the smell of sulfur and smoke blenches forth from the tunnels. Shit, did she hit a gas line? Fucking dammit, like this day can get any worse—

Echoing, blood-chilling howls emanate from the tunnels.

Your eyes widen –and then your heart starts working overtime when you see two, then four massive hellhounds (like the ones Allison summoned at the mall) crawl out of the tunnels.

Shrieks of terror sound from the gunmen. Several take off running, while others try to shoot the beasts.

The hounds snap and snarl at the gunmen, then charge at the group. Two of them go off after the runners, while the other two start lunging after the assassins like they’re rabbits.

You stare at the chaos in disbelief –and then a set of strong hands grab you underneath the arms.

“Get up.” You uncle tugs you to your feet, keeping you steady when you stumble. “You can’t be in the flow of traffic for this.”

Behind you, Allison is panting like she’s run a marathon. The aura of blue smoke is growing around her, trailing into the air and floating over the ground. Veins of light spread across her face and arms, glowing the same shade of vibrant blue as her eyes. Her breathing grows louder and more ragged, until she’s growling and shaking with each exhale— and then she screams.

Much like the first confrontation in the cemetery, all those months ago, the scream unleashes a shockwave of blue energy. This time, though, the shockwave is far from a decoy for escape. It washes over you, the X-Force, your uncle, the other Rasputins, Frank, and Artemis harmlessly enough –then slams into the mafia forces and vehicles like the wall of a hurricane.

Alex charges after the shockwave, carefully trailing behind it. She waits until it clears the first line of gunmen, then slams her fist into the face of the man closest to her. She blocks his attempt to strike her, then twists his arm –dislocating the shoulder, which makes him shriek in pain. Then, she wrenches his rifle away from him. She shoots him once in the center of his forehead, then turns the firearm on his fellow men and keeps firing.

Mikhail and Artemis go after the one surviving Gatling gun. Mikhail teleports onto the truck bed; he sweeps the back of one man’s jacket over his head, effectively blinding him, then kicks the other man present in the balls before shoving him over the side of the truck.

Artemis, on the other hand, stops a few feet away from the truck. She uses her telekinesis to rip the Gatling gun off its mount, then yanks the driver out through the windscreen –headfirst, no less—and dumps him on the lawn.

He doesn’t get back up.

“Come on,” your uncle says, pointing towards the further reaches of the property, where some of the gunmen are still trying to outrun the hellhounds. “Let’s give the dogs a helping hand.”

The two of you reach out, creating a wind current that slices through the air and slams into the stragglers.

The men careen into nearby hedges –and the hellhounds have it from there.

The familiar sonic blast of Nathan’s gun rips through the air. The shot slams into the last remaining SUV, rendering the vehicle to little more than glass shards and mangled metal.

The back lawn and gardens fall silent, save for the sounds of groans of pain and the hellhounds chewing on various gunmen.

Mikhail takes a fall off the back of the truck bed. He flops onto the ruined grass below, limbs splaying like a rag doll’s. “Alright. Is time for nap. Wake me… never.”

Illyana scoffs from where she’s sat next to a smoldering bush. She picks up a nearby stone, then chucks it at her eldest brother’s head (and hits her target, no less). “There is still clean up. Bezdel'nik.”

Mikhail flips her off, then groans as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

“She’s right,” Alex lectures her eldest as she picks her way through the carnage. She nudges one body with the toe of her combat boot, then shoots him through the temple when he groans.

“Mama!” Piotr gapes at her, expression scandalized. He sputters, looking between her and the body at her feet.

“Chto? Vy khotite yego zhivym? Chtoby on mog dolozhit' svoim khozyayevam? Chtoby on mog obrushit' adskiy ogon' na etu shkolu i vsekh, kogo vy lyubite? No –no.” She holds up her index finger and stares sternly at Piotr when he tries to argue. “You do not leave enemies on your six o’clock, medvezhonok. First rule of survival.”

Piotr swallows hard, then says softly, “X-Men do not kill.”

Alex shrugs. “And I am not an X-Man.”

“We’ll handle it,” Nathan says. He holds his hand out for Alex’s rifle, nodding when she hands it to him after a moment’s hesitation.

(Wade and Frank are already working their way through the sea of dead and wounded. Frank’s traversing the chaos methodically, sticking to minimal shots to kill the survivors, while Wade’s alternating between singing “Dancing Queen” and getting post-mortem revenge.

“You shot my dick off inside!” Wade gasps as he peers down at a –slightly chewed on—corpse. “Extra bullets for you!” He then shoots the dead body several times before resuming his pitchy serenade.)

“What now?” Allison asks, staring out at the carnage with a slightly shocked expression.

“‘What now?’” Artemis repeats, laughing incredulously. She stomps towards Allison, pulling a pack of tissues out of her inner jacket pocket. “What the hell are you even doing out here? You were supposed to stay in the safe room—”

“They had cameras in there,” Allison says with a roll of her eyes, as if that justifies her decision to join the fracas. “You guys were getting your asses kicked.”

“We would’ve handled it.”

“Yeah, except you weren’t,” Allison fires back. She scrunches up her face when Artemis starts wiping the blood off her face, but otherwise takes the mothering without any complaint.

“It’s not your responsibility to deal with this shit,” Artemis says, voice and expression softening for a moment. She cleans up Allison’s face –then scowls. “And where the fuck are your cuffs? How did you even get out of them?”

Allison shrugs. “I used my powers to short the repression cuff out and ash it off.”

Illyana’s, Alex’s, and your uncle’s heads all snap around to stare at Allison.

“Are you kidding me?” Artemis hisses through clenched teeth. “You could’ve fucking killed yourself!”

“Or caused magical paradox that ripped hole in space-time continuum,” Illyana snaps.

“Ruptured blood vessels in your brain and caused an aneurysm, made the cuff deliver a lethal electrical shock, turned your magic against your own body and rendered yourself to ash,” your uncle continues, ticking off items on his fingers.

“Well, I didn’t do any of that!” Allison snarls, glaring at the others while Artemis keeps cleaning up her face. “And I made sure you losers won the fight –so fuck off!”

“Get her something to eat and drink,” Alex says. “Her blood sugar is bound to be low after pulling a stunt like that.”

Artemis glares at Alex and opens her mouth to respond—

Across the yard, Wade lets out a pained shriek. “My balls are not fetch toys! Bad Fido! Bad!”

Your eyes widen as you watch one of the hellhounds swing Wade around by his legs. You bite down on your lip, holding in a shock-induced laugh.

“Where’s this mutt’s off-switch –hey, hey! No!” Wade wriggles in the hellhound’s mouth, panicking as another beast bounds towards him. “My spine is not a tug toy! Can someone get rid of Fido and Rufus before they rip me in half!”

Allison snorts –then, before anyone can stop her, holds out her hand and flicks her wrist.

All four hellhounds melt back into the ground, disappearing to the depths of hell from whence they came.

Artemis swears under her breath, then catches the teen when she stumbles. She moves frantically, grabbing more tissues as blood starts pouring out of Allison’s nose once more. “You fucking idiot. Why the fuck did you do that? When are you going to fucking learn that you’re not invincible—”

Allison lets out a sharp, hoarse laugh –then passes out.

…

The wreckage inside the mansion is heartbreaking.

You stare at the ruined furniture, the scorched walls, the splintered doors, the ruined rec room and kitchen, and you have to wonder what was the fucking point?

Part of you understands that the mafia came prepared for war; they were going up against powerful mutants, so –naturally—they would want to be prepared. Having the strongest, most powerful weapons available increased their chances of success. Logically –from a strictly tactical standpoint—it makes sense.

Glass crunches under your shoes. You stare down at a litany of fallen picture frames, heart wrenching as you stare at the ruined pictures of graduates, students, and workers inside. We’re just a school. We work with kids. What was the point of trying to wipe us out?

Piotr ambles up behind you. He puts his arms around your shoulders and kisses the top of your head. “Cleaners and repairmen will be here in less than one hour.”

You feel numb. You place your hand on his arm. “That’s good.”

“We have back ups of pictures,” he murmurs. He kisses your cheek. “Insurance to cover replacing damaged items. We will be fine.”

“I know.” You sigh, leaning back against your husband’s chest. “We’re just a school. What… what was the point? Why try to wipe us out?”

“I do not know.” Piotr kisses your other cheek, hugging you reassuringly. “Perhaps they believed we knew information about ‘family business.’ Or that we were protecting Allison for some reason.”

“She’s just a kid,” you argue, voice breaking as your grief and exhaustion wells up and threatens to overtake you. “She’s only thirteen…”

Piotr says nothing, merely holds you closer.

You sigh—

And then a door slams. Hurried stomps echo down the hall. There’s creaking as a door opens again, followed by more footsteps and exasperated shouts.

Allison storms past you and Piotr, heading towards the kitchen. Her jaw is set, fists clenched at her sides.

You and Piotr look at each other –then follow after her, if only to be sure that nothing else is going to explode today.

She slams her hands down on the island counter –and, on the opposite side, Frank and Karen both flinch and stare at her warily.

Allison glares at Frank, jaw working convulsively. Her shoulders heave with each breath she takes. Her eyes shine with unshed tears, making the bags underneath seem darker and deeper by comparison. She trembles, expression flickering wildly between grief, white hot rage, and the neutral mask she’s trying so desperately to hold. She sucks in a breath that sounds more like a pained sob, then stares Frank down and spits out through gritted teeth, “You leave my people alone, I leave yours alone. Deal?”

Frank sighs. He nods, expression heavy with grief and eyes shining with remorse. “Yeah, kid. You got a deal.”

Allison clenches the edge of the island so hard her hands go white. She lets out a strangled, angry laugh as the tears finally start to fall. She ducks her head briefly, then glares back up at Frank. “I fucking hate you.”

Frank grimaces, but nods and says, “I know kid. It’s okay. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“That ain’t worth shit.”

“I know… believe me, I know.”

Artemis –who’d previously been watching at the kitchen threshold—steps forward and puts her arm around Allison’s shoulders. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

Allison clenches her teeth together, but still lets out a choked sob. She presses her lips together, looking around the room to try and regain her composure, to stop the flow of tears. She manages a deep breath, then takes one last look at Frank and snarls, “If I have to see your fucking face again, I’m ripping out your guts,” before storming out of the room.

Frank, to his credit, doesn’t respond (though you suspect he feels too guilty to even consider arguing). He merely hangs his head, expression that of a kicked dog.

Karen leans against him. She interlocks her fingers with his, murmuring in his ear (likely about how it isn’t his fault, and while it looks like that may technically be the case, you’re glad you don’t have to walk the spider’s silk of a line those facts lie upon).

What a shitshow.

Piotr puts an arm around your shoulders and gently leads you out of the kitchen. “Come on, myshka. Let’s go find spot to rest.”

…

Frank and Karen leave shortly after “making the deal” with Allison.

Allison and Artemis hang back for a bit to talk to Xavier. You don’t get all the gorey details but from what you can tell, it’s essentially an offer to help train Allison’s powers so she doesn’t hurt herself rolled in with a warning to keep her nose clean, stay on the straight and narrow, etcetera etcetera.

The sun’s just starting its descent from the sky before the two of them walk out of the meeting room.

Allison is wearing Artemis’s jacket and looks downright haggard.

Artemis has her arm around the teen and is gently guiding her while she talks to Xavier (though, perhaps the term “talk” is too generous, considering most of her responses are nods or terse, one-to-two word replies).

The rest of the Rasputin family, you, Piotr, and your uncle are all gathered in the foyer to make sure Allison and Artemis leave without too much trouble (or causing more trouble themselves).

Your uncle is sweating bullets and looks like he just shit his pants; he’s glancing between Alex and their daughter so fast it’s a miracle he hasn’t given himself a headache yet.

Now or never, you think, watching him with pursed lips. Tell your secrets before they’re told for you.

Alex kneels down next to Allison. “Are you okay?”

Allison’s gaze doesn’t leave the floor. “The fuck do you think?”

She quirks her mouth to the side. “Not all that good.” Alex ducks her head lower, trying to catch Allison’s gaze. “You remember what we talked about?”

Allison’s eyes narrow. She moves her gaze away from Alex. “Go to hell. I know what I know.”

“Sometimes… it’s better to not,” Alex says. She stares at Allison for a moment longer, then pats her shoulder before standing and walking away.

Artemis stares after Alex, expression morphing rapidly between fury and shock. She sputters for a moment before snapping, “What –that’s all you have to fucking say?”

Alex pauses, turning slightly so she can see Artemis. She raises one eyebrow, otherwise looking unbothered. “Is there something else I should be saying?”

“You don’t have anything to say to me?” Artemis presses, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nothing at all?”

“Is there something you want me to say to you?” Alex fires back, smirking slightly.

Artemis stares at Alex for a long, hard moment. She shakes her head, eyes welling up with tears, then turns her glare onto your uncle. “You really didn’t fucking tell her.”

“What?” Alex’s expression sobers, going wary as she looks between your uncle and Artemis. “What didn’t you—”

“This really isn’t the time or place—” Your uncle tries.

And here it goes.

“I’ve gotta do all the work, then,” Artemis snarls with a vicious smile. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense, considering I’m not your favorite,” she tacks on with an angry glare towards you. She storms towards Alex, one hand outstretched, with a cruel, angry smile stretched across her face. “Hey, mom. How’s it going?”

Alex’s eyes widen. She stares at Artemis, eyes tracking over the younger woman’s face. “What…”

“You fucking heard me.”

Illyana, Piotr, and Mikhail look at each other, then at Alex, then at Nikolai. They explode into confused Russian, gesturing between their parents, Artemis, and your uncle—

Realization dawns in Alex’s dark eyes. Her expression trembles, tears welling up in her eyes as she stares at Artemis’s face.

And then she uses her telekinesis to yank your uncle over and decks him.

[needsmoresleepwrites]

Gift for Daiyanerd: Miyuki Kazuya. Always cool and collected. Has a great side profile. Good at baseball. Well, no, great is the correct word. (sofa’21)

Moratorium

Read on Ao3

ONE

Miyuki Kazuya

Always cool and collected. Has a great side profile. Good at baseball. Well, no, great is the correct word. Even when he sometimes messes up some of the smaller plays. Reliable. Daring. Funny. Charming. Has probably had a dozen girlfriends, or maybe not. Nobody has been able to get any concrete answer on that one question, but he's definitely a lady's man, his fan club primarily consisting of girls and women that claim they would leave their current lives just to marry him if he so much as hinted interest. Or at least that's what many of the magazines, both sports and gossip ones say about him

Not to be too full of himself, but Kazuya thinks that much of what they say has some foundation. Yeah, people like Yoichi and Jun know better but he has to agree that his catching skills are unparalleled. He might also really like sending magazine covers with blown up images of his smiling (smirking) face to Yoichi just to get a scathing reply or an angry call. His only response is his lady killer (annoying) laugh

He knows he's always being watched by someone, but it completely slips his mind that anything could go wrong on that day

The headlines are brutal and he's gotten many messages and calls from his friends. He hasn't really answered because, well, he hasn't been able to. But he knows what they're saying. He's laying at the hospital with bandages covering most of his torso. He has a sense of deja vu, having been in a similar position when he'd been in high school, but this is much, much worse. Something happened and everyone is scrambling to find out what

Everyone except Rei, who has been detained. The tabloids are lapping this up like it's the sip of water they've finally been allowed after being stuck in a desert for months. Except that they're ruining the lives of the people Kazuya loves the most

He sees different news channels trying to get interviews from the few people that make up his friends. They want to know about Rei from high school. They've dug up her whole life's story and put it on full blast. They want to know about Kazuya, as if they haven't already told all there is to say, invented and created his whole career. They talk about how Rei pretty much scouted him from a very young age. The same women that claim they would do anything for Kazuya have turned razer sharp, claiming that "they knew it all along" and that Rei "had it coming"

They all twist the information for entertainment and Kazuya closes his eyes, disgusted at what they say about her.

There had been an accident. His car had been hit and he knows he needed surgery. Later they found out it was all a setup and he went from being one of the richest people and baseball players in Japan to having nothing. His career may as well be over. It will take too long for him to recover. Games won't wait.

Kazuya throws the remote in his hand and wants to tell them all its lies. He knows Rei would never do something like this. She's smart. It doesn't make sense. As much as Rei will follow a gut instinct, especially if it's about recruiting potential, it's always based on logic. There is no logic here.

His name flashes on multiple headlines and all he wants to scream is no, I didn't she say she stole my money!

The machines connected to his body have been beeping for a while now and finally, nurses and doctors run in. They try to get him to calm down but all he can do is repeat It wasn't her! It wasn't her! Rei would never! Tell them to stop!

Soon he feels drowsy and he realizes he's been sedated.

Before he closes his eyes he sees a picture of Rei next to the news anchor. Her hair is down, her eyes look haunted, but her posture is proud. She's not in her usual suit. Instead, she's wearing that dreaded green top, almost drowning her, making her pale skin paler. She doesn't look right. It's not the Rei he knows. The Rei he owes everything to.

He feels the tears burn his eyes.

----

TWO.

It takes a little over a year for things to "settle" down, but once the storm is over, everything is ruined.

Kazuya still manages to get his face blown up on magazine covers, but this time it's for a different reason. He's now considered a victim and he hates the images of him being wheeled out of the hospital. Of the tabloids somehow getting a shot of his bloodshot eyes, his pale skin, and his hunched shoulders. He wishes his attorney had allowed Kazuya to do something, but everything was too precarious, we have to be careful. Careful of what? He can no longer play baseball. He was already pushing the age of acceptability, only being allowed to continue contracts because he was so good, was still quick, was dedicated in mind, body, and soul to the game. But now he was injured, would be in rehab, and nobody knew if he'd still be able to move as great as before. Nobody would take that risk

Rei is finally released, but her life is ruined too. Hers is worse than Kazuya's will ever be. Not just because she's the supposed mastermind of the accident and subsequent disappearance of his capital, but because she's a woman. It's made him sick how she's been torn apart and left behind. She had already been forcefully (through great results) making her own space at the table. This was just the excuse to make her disappear. Nobody wanted a criminal as their associate. The label was tarnished and it would take time to rebuild their name. "Apologies" had been passed around, but nobody would take the risk of allowing her space again

Nobody thought to ask her side of the story, to reach out and help. She was alone. Nobody could legally take what she's rightfully earned, but they can pile fines upon fines. She is "free to go" but they have severely limited what she can do.

It only makes sense that she finally retires. Kazuya goes to see her with the Seidou team. He breaks when he finally sees what they've done to her, all in "his name", to "protect him". Rei is strong, logical, smart, but she can't help but allow herself to show a bit of emotion at that moment. She wipes away at Kazuya's face, "There's nothing left for me here and there's no use crying. The only way to go now is forward."

Chris recommends that Kazuya go to the same rehab facility he went to in America.

Kazuya doesn't want to leave. It feels like admitting defeat, like running away, like he's abandoning his friends.

Yoichi grits his teeth, tells Kazuya he wants to punch him for being so stupid, "But hitting an injured person isn't my style, even though it's YOU."

There is little progress on his health, both physical and mental, and then Yoichi, who has been singlehandedly taking care of him whenever he has a moment to spare, nearly begs him, "Kazuya, please. Go. Don't let this defeat you. I don't want to admit it but I miss seeing that stupidly smug look on your face. Remember what Rei said. You have to keep moving forward!"

He can't help but laugh one night when he can't sleep, Yoichi's words and his concerned face plaguing his mind. He can't believe he almost let this defeat him. He can't believe he was down enough to force his best friend to make such a face, to make him cry for his sake. He feels like he's let everyone down, especially Rei.

He calls Chris a few days later.

Before leaving, he logs into his Twitter account, which, like any other media source, he's been avoiding for the past year. Someone has obviously logged in and cleared his notifications and as his last stand, no first, because even now "they have to be careful", Kazuya quote RTs an article he hasn't even read, but he doesn't need to. He chooses it because it has one of those headlines. He presses send and logs out.

I NEVER said she stole my money.

----

THREE.

It's two years when he finally comes back to Japan. His rehab had ended months ago but there was a part of him that had been afraid to come back. He's sure Yoichi had sensed it, which is why he'd pretty much dragged him back.

He remembers the conversation they had. It had been really late in Japan, he's sure that Yoichi was on the verge of passing out, could hear every yawn he tried to hide, but he wouldn't let Kazuya hang up, "I'm not hanging up until you agree."

Kazuya sighs, "There's nothing for me to do out there anyway. Here, I've been helping at the hospital."

"But you don't even like that kind of stuff! I bet you're bored out of your mind," Yoichi countered, and Kazuya has to admit that he's not exactly wrong. He misses the excitement from the diamond, feeling the burn on his thighs as he squats behind the batter, signaling different plays to his catchers, the feel of the ball as it lands perfectly in his gloved palm, the roar of the crowd as they once more strikeout another enemy batter. But he can't have any of that. This year Kazuya turns 30 and he has become stiff. He can't move as dexterously as before.

He hears some shuffling on the other end, as if Yoichi is changing positions on his bed, "Look. Not many people know this but...this is actually my last year playing."

Kazuya freezes at that. He knows Yoichi is still keeping up with his own records, has won his team countless matches for his boldness, knows they would never want to let him go. He briefly fears that maybe an injury is involved but shakes his head. No, Yoichi would tell him if that's the case, so then, "Why?"

"That's why I called and I need you to come back," there's another pause, not long, "I'm getting married."

Kazuya blanks out for a moment and then stops what he's doing altogether (he turns off the stove, he'd been making breakfast but this is more important. Besides, he had almost been done), "Married? Did you kidnap some poor girl? I haven't even heard of you dating."

"KAZUYA," he hears Yoichi yell, "I didn't kidnap anyone! And that's because my PR team has been making sure to keep things tightly sealed, and I guess we also haven't been able to see each other much too." That last part is mumbled but Kazuya catches it anyway.

Kazuya hums, still disbelieving, but only slightly. He knows Yoichi wouldn't kid about something like this so if he says he's getting married, he's getting married, "Congratulations then. Not sure how someone found you husband material, but they do say there's a type for everyone. How'd you meet her?"

"You are such a dick," Yoichi hisses, "How are we still even friends?"

Kazuya sometimes wonders the same thing. Yoichi has been with him at his best and worst and has never given up on him. He laughs, "My great personality?"

Yoichi snorts right before laughing, "Yeah right. Anyway, so I met this guy-"

"A husband?" Kazuya cuts him off, genuinely curious, but also can't help but tease, "You hid it so well with all those magazines. I'm sure nobody suspected. No wonder your team is doing such a great job at hiding this."

Yoichi yells into the phone, "Let me finish asshole! No! It's not a guy, her name is Wakana! And she's the childhood friend of this guy I met!"

Kazuya makes a tsk noise, "Yoichi, did you steal her from this guy? Are you a homewrecker?"

Instead of getting mad, Yoichi snorts, "As if. Can you believe Wakana was actually in love with Sawamoron for years and he didn't realize."

Kazuya adds, "So you seduced her?" before Yoichi can continue with the story.

"No? I mean, I'm not sure," but they both know that Yoichi probably couldn't seduce anyone even if he tried. Charmed, yes, but outright seduce? And a girl he liked? Very unlikely, "But she'd been tired of waiting and so I met her after she'd confessed and he rejected her."

"Hmm," Kazuya interrupts again, "So you took advantage when she was down. That makes more sense. She was probably so down about being rejected she would have said yes to anyone. Sadly that someone was you."

Yoichi is flabbergasted, "Take advantage?! MIYUKI, that's not- I'd never - just let me finish!"

Kazuya laughs, "Ok, ok. So how did you meet her? I won't interrupt again."

Just like that, Yoichi calms down and Kazuya notes the happiness in his voice as he laughs, not at Kazuya, but at something, the memory perhaps, and Kazuya is slightly jealous. He's not sure at what or who.

"So this kid, Sawamura, we were going to meet up at the park. He had something to tell me, but then I see him running after this girl, yelling about money or something. So I cut her off-"

Kazuya can't help but laugh, "Y-Yoichi, did you, did you attack the poor girl?"

"Didn't you say you weren't going to interrupt?!" Yoichi screeches, but he starts laughing a bit too, "And no, I didn't attack her but, well..."

There's a groan on the other end and Kazuya can imagine his best friend blushing to the tips of his ears, "I pulled her by the arm and she was surprised, but then she did something and next thing I know I'm on the ground, looking up at her and Sawamura is laughing like he's seen the most hilarious thing ever!"

He wonders if that kid was laughing as hard as he is now. He feels the tears tickling his eyes, his cheeks hurt, and he feels the force of his laugh pulling on his stomach, "I already like the girl. What happened next?"

Yoichi lets him laugh but his voice is annoyed, not at him he notes, but at what happens next, "So Sawamoron comes up finally and he knows the girl and I'm confused and just got thrown to the ground by a girl that doesn't even reach my chin, and I ask him why he was yelling about a thief, because that's what he was doing."

More shifting on Yoichi's end, "And you know what he said to me?"

"What?"

"He goes "I never said she stole my money!" so I knock him over the head because yeah, he's right, he was YELLING IT. Everyone in the goddamn park heard it! Made him buy me dinner and everything."

Kazuya feels a lump in his throat but pushes it aside, he turns the stove on again to finish preparing his breakfast, "I guess for Wakana I can go back. When's the wedding? And will I be your best man?"

----

FOUR.

Kazuya hasn't even been home a month when Yoichi walks into his apartment with their old Seidou team. Everyone seems to be there, even the first years like Ryo's little brother and Furuya. There really isn't anything Kazuya can do but move aside so that everyone can come inside. At the end of the group, right after the first years enter, he spots someone he doesn't know. A kid with unruly brown hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin who looks slightly nervous. His posture is too stiff but he's also looking around curiously.

Yoichi notices Kazuya looking at him and comes over for introductions. He pulls the kid into a side hug, "Kazuya, this is Sawamura, Wakana's friend."

Kazuya looks him over. He's heard a few things about him from Yoichi, "So this is Sawamoron?" he teases. He can't help the lift of his lips as the kid splutters in indignation.

A high pitched, "Kuramochi-senpai! You can't call me that anymore, we're practically family now!"

Yoichi howls, slapping the kid on the back, "You're always going to be a moron Sawamura, hyahaha!"

Sawamura grits his teeth for a second before standing up straight, stretching out his hand towards Kazuya, "Good afternoon, It's a pleasure to meet you! My name is Sawamura Eijun! Thank you for inviting me!!"

Kazuya looks at the outstretched hand for a moment before he doubles over laughing. Sawamura let's out another unidentified sound before yelling, "That's so rude Miyuki Kazuya!!" but he hasn't dropped his arm.

Kazuya takes a breath, isn't surprised he knows his name (briefly wonders if he knows who he is), right before taking that tanned hand into his own. Sawamura's hold is firm, if a bit sweaty, nerves probably, "Well, as you so clearly let my neighbors know, my name is Miyuki Kazuya." He pauses, "And I didn't invite you."

Sawamura pales slightly, looks over to Yoichi who just makes a rude noise, "Really Kazuya? You have to be a dick right off the bat?"

Kazuya only smiles brightly, finally letting go of the kid's hand, looks around his house, and says, "Actually, I didn't invite any of you over. Why are you all here?"

The others have already settled into his kitchen and, he peers through the doorway, there are bottles of coke and beer and the smell of oily pizza in the air. Jun has already made himself at home on his couch, a paper plate with a pizza on it. He's halfway into that slice and Kazuya doesn't know why Jun didn't just take an extra slice or two with him before settling down. Ryo and Haruichi are putting things in his fridge. He realizes now how empty his fridge must have been. He had been meaning to go grocery shopping but he supposes he hadn't had the energy to go. Kanemaru is clearing up some of the boxes he had yet to unbox, reading the labels Chris had helped him write, and arranging them accordingly.

He knows that many of these guys are still part of the leagues, wonders how they managed to take a moment to raid his home (notices a few faces are missing, like Yuki but he would have been REALLY surprised if they'd managed to get him to come over). He remembers how they'd made it a routine to visit him when they were at Seidou, knowing he could get lost in strategizing and numbers quickly. He feels a penetrating gaze and turns to see the new kid watching him intently. Kazuya can't help the grin that grows on his face and it's finally starting to feel like home.

He motions the two in, "Well, you may as well come in. Everyone is already inside. Feel free to raid my fridge and make a mess in my new kitchen."

Yoichi laughs, pulling Sawamura inside with him. The kid still looks slightly off-balance, but he sits next to the first years like he belongs and he wonders why this picture looks so right.

Yoichi dives in for the last slice of pepperoni pizza just as Sawamura is about to reach for it and then loudly exclaims, "Hey Kazuya, wanna hear something funny?"

Kazuya has already grabbed his own plate and he wonders how he missed all of these pizza boxes when they first came inside. He grabs one with sausage and mushroom, "Hm?"

"So while we were getting the pizza, we sent Sawamura to go get the drinks, right?"

Sawamura, who had just taken a drink from his can of soda, instantly spits it out and Kazuya is both intrigued and disgusted as he sees the drink mixed with spit cover his table, "Kuramochi-senpai, don't!"

He sees Kanemaru chuckling and Jun roars from the living room. Apparently, there were many witnesses to this apparently funny story. Haruichi pats Sawamura's back softly while the kid's face glows red. Kazuya is momentarily worried he might faint but then curiosity wins out, "Oh?"

Yoichi and he share a look, "Get this, we all gave him our share, right? So he goes in and comes back all mad, saying we didn't give him the right amount, but then, but then," It seems the rest of it is too funny for Yoichi to continue because he starts laughing and he notices Sawamura cover his face. He mumbles something but Kazuya doesn't catch it.

Ryo helps him out. He's also amused, a smirk on his face, "The girl stole his change."

Sawamura uncovers his face and yells, "I never said she stole my money!"

There's a moment of silence before...

Jun. He'd come back into the kitchen to get more pizza, "Who else could it have been? Had to be the girl at the counter, or did you just give up your money?"

Kuramochi, "Easy prey, how you're even a teacher is beyond me."

Kanemaru, "Wait. So it wasn't the cashier?"

Even Kazuya can't help but ask, laughter tickling his words, "Emphasis on "she"?"

Sawamura seems to realize his error and covers his face again. He's mumbling again but instead of being annoyed by the bad habit, Kazuya thinks it's almost cute.

"Haruichi?" Ryo questions and Sawamura uncovers his face to yell, "Onii-san! That's not fair! Haruichi you can't tell, you promised!"

Haruichi is looking back and forth between them, "Well..."

Then Furuya explains all, "He was flirting with the delivery guy."

It somehow gets even louder inside his house and Kazuya can't believe he thought of not returning. It's true that his baseball career is over, but this is where his family is at. This is where his life is truly at. He laughs until the tears in his eyes fall.

They spend hours getting him up to speed on gossip.

----

FIVE.

Even though he's only known Sawamura for a few days, maybe weeks, he's the one that keeps Kazuya company the most. And there's a big reason for that named Kuramochi Yoichi. Even though, or perhaps because, it's nearing the end of his contract, Yoichi gets busier. There are some rumors as to why he's finally leaving baseball, but just like he'd told Kazuya, everything is still under wraps. There are no incriminating photos and no face to put to those rumors jealous girls spread online. Kazuya wonders how things will turn out once Yoichi fesses up but until then, Sawamura becomes his shadow

One, he's not bound to such a strenuous schedule (Yoichi told him Sawamura is the grade school teacher at one of the local schools not far from Kazuya's new place. His new house is conveniently placed so close because it will soon be Kazuya's new workplace and they just happen to be on break now), and second...well, Kazuya's not sure. Yoichi didn't want to tell him. Not exactly

He remembers the last time he actually met up with his best friend.

Yoichi had invited him over for dinner and Sawamura had come up somehow (Kazuya comes to realize that Sawamura comes up in their lives very often). Yoichi had been contemplative. They'd just finished watching a movie and were just sitting there in the dark, the credits rolling.

"You know. If Sawamura had actually been interested in Wakana...I don't think I'd have ever had a chance with her. There's just something about him...he's so..." Yoichi makes vague hand movements, "you know?"

Kazuya laughs and wonders if this is what best men have to deal with with their to-be grooms. Jitters, he's heard them called, but he was sure this feeling was supposed to happen days before the wedding, not so far ahead when there wasn't even a date finalized, "Already second-guessing the married life?"

Yoichi doesn't even take the bait. He just sighs and leans back on the couch, "No, I'm serious. There's just something about Sawamura, he's so honest and hardworking. I can see why Wakana liked him."

"Careful, or I might start to think you actually want to marry Sawamura instead."

Yoichi kicks him halfheartedly, "Dumbass."

Their feet are still touching and Yoichi nudges him, "He's a good kid you know."

Kazuya leans out to grab his drink from the low table, takes a sip, "He does seem like it. Although he's a bit..." He tries to find the right word. Dense? Airheaded? No..."innocent?"

Yoichi laughs, "Yes! The stories I could tell you."

It gets quiet and Kazuya enjoys it. It's been years since the two of them have done something like this.

Yoichi breaks the silence again, "You know...Rei actually tried scouting him."

Kazuya takes another swig of his drink, deep, and tries to wash away the feelings of guilt. He hasn't spoken to Rei since the incident. Hasn't really asked about her although he knows she's ok, thanks to Chris

But he's curious now. If Rei had been interested in him then he was undoubtedly good talent, "What happened?"

Yoichi scoffs, "The idiot turned her down! Said he didn't need any fancy schools to play baseball."

Kazuya can't help the snort he lets out into his drink. He hasn't known Sawamura long but he can somehow imagine the face he'd make, how loud he would yell that statement with conviction, "Too bad." He's sure Sawamura could have been someone if he'd come to Seidou and he somehow feels cheated of something

"What position?"

"Pitcher, a southpaw, nasty throw," Yoichi grips his cup tightly. He looks over at him, "He's not a professional but he does still play."

It's a subtle nudge that Kazuya ignores.

Which is probably why he finds Sawamura so often on his doorstep.

Today he's managed to wrangle Kazuya out of his house, but only because it's work-related. The summer heat isn't terrible today so the two decide to walk and even though it's not that far, Kazuya finds himself lightly perspiring. Perhaps he's let himself go more than he thought, and he begins planning a timetable to get his fitness in a better state. Meanwhile, Sawamura is all smiles

"Hurry up Miyuki Kazuya!" He's already at the side door, opening it with his staff key, and Kazuya wonders if they should even be here. There are hardly any cars parked outside and the school is obviously void of children. Classes don't start until next week

"You don't have to call me by my full name," Kazuya tells him as he enters the building. Sawamura slides past him after closing the door, making sure it locks properly, "You can call me Miyuki-senpai."

"What?!" Sawamura's voice echoes in the hallway, "Why should I call you that?!"

"Because you're younger," he pats Sawamura's head and grins, "And smaller."

He slaps his hand away, a blush on his face, "I'm not small! And you're not even that much taller!!"

He stands closer to Kazuya and points at the few centimeters difference between them. Kazuya pushes him back, "Miyuki-senpai."

Sawamura just rolls his eyes and continues walking, "You really do have a terrible personality Miyuki Kazuya!"

Kazuya just laughs, "Thanks!"

"Not a compliment!" Sawamura yells and then points to the rooms in the hall they're in, "I'm usually here with the kids. Since the school isn't that big you'll probably get kids as young as eight and as old as thirteen in your class too, since you're the only gym teacher until Kuramochi-senpai gets married."

Kazuya nods, "Ok, Sawamura...sensei."

Kazuya notes how easy it is to rile up Sawamura. How his face will quickly turn red and his lips will form pouts or grimaces, his body reacting so honestly so quickly. Now he brings up his hands to cover his ears as he yells, "Don't call me that!!"

"Then stop calling me by my full name, it's weird."

"MIYUKI KA-"

Kazuya somehow manages to raise his voice enough to speak over Sawamura, "So Sawamura-sensei, where do the kids go out to play? Sensei?"

Sawamura looks like he's about to burst and goes off yelling. Miyuki follows him, laughing, their voices echoing in tandem

They end up outside behind the school somewhere. Even though it's small, Kazuya is impressed by how well maintained it is. There is a small playground to the side, which has been recently repainted, signs marking the walls and tape clearly discouraging anyone from touching. The mats at the bottom look worn but not in bad shape. Then there is a track that circles what looks like enough field to be a neighborhood. Most of it is empty and Sawamura's talking about how sometimes the kids will go out there and play soccer or volleyball or really whatever sports they need that requires a lot of space. The only place that looks like it truly has a defined purpose is the baseball field.

He feels excited and scared at the same time, wants to run to home plate, to feel the dirt path against his feet, crouch, and take in the view. But he also thinks this is a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn't have come here, shouldn't have accepted the job. He knows why they want him, why they're willing to wait a year for Yoichi to come and teach. He's not sure if he can take the pressure

"Miyuki-senpai," he turns to Sawamura, who is pouting.

He's not sure why he feels himself calm down, perhaps it's because he'll take any distraction, even if it's loud Sawamura, or maybe it's because Sawamura looks ridiculous with his cheeks puffed out and his eyebrows scrunched up between his eyes. Kazuya smiles. It hurts a bit to do so, "Is this all just for the little gremlins? Lucky them, I didn't have something so big at my disposal when I was at school."

Sawamura suddenly inflates as he grins, "Yeah me neither! I'm from the countryside from a school even smaller than this! Wakana and I had to go to the other side of town with our friends if we wanted to play baseball. That's sort of what it's like here too. We share with some of the other schools and really anyone is welcome to come here as long as the kids aren't out playing."

"Wakana, huh," Kazuya notes. He hasn't actually met the bride-to-be yet, "Is she in the habit of taking people's money?"

Sawamura looks confused and perhaps a bit upset, "What?"

Kazuya only smirks, "I heard how Yoichi met her."

Understanding fills his eyes and he groans, "I keep telling Kuramochi-senpai not to tell that story! It's all lies! Lies! Come on, let's go to the gym, your to-be base."

They head back inside and Kazuya feels the smile that spreads on his face is lighter, amused. It's relaxing being with Sawamura, "So what, she wasn't stealing your money?"

"No!" Sawamura defends, "I never said she stole my money! It was all a misunderstanding!!"

"So what? She was just borrowing it?" Kazuya pushes and can't help but laugh as Sawamura goes red.

"I-It, my, NO! She just grabbed my wallet!! But she wasn't stealing it!"

----

SIX.

Kazuya hasn't been teaching for long when it's time to prepare for Sports Day and he forgets how tiring it can be. Sawamura is ecstatic the whole week leading up to the moment all the kids are let loose to run and play, and he's not sure how the flow of energy works, who feeds off who, but everyone seems to be ready to burst with enthusiasm by then. Kazuya feels like he's the only one who is burnt out. He's not usually used to so much happening, at least not like this

The school asks him to give an encouraging speech before the event begins, which Sawamura jealously admits had been his job the last two years, but he grins all the same. He encourages him to do his best, just like he does to the children and Kazuya isn't sure if he should be offended or glad when he feels the flat of Sawamura's palm on his back.

By then, Yoichi has finally wrapped things up with his team. He still has a few more interviews scheduled, but he's essentially removed himself (as much as he can) from the public eye. He's announced he's going to get married and has been asked many times about his to-be wife, but just like Kazuya, everyone is kept in the dark. On the few nights Yoichi manages to call him, to check up on him, Kazuya teases that maybe this is the most elaborate plan he's ever seen, that maybe this Wakana girl doesn't even exist

Yoichi just laughs, "What? Is The Great Miyuki Kazuya actually curious?"

Kazuya scoffs, "Of course not, and don't call me that. I can't get Sawamura to stop, I don't want you doing the same. It's so weird."

They talk until they're both ready to pass out but Yoichi tells him he'll be there and that he'll bring Wakana too. There's something strange with the way he says this but it's late, they've both been up for too long, and Kazuya doesn't remember the unease the next day

He doesn't remember until Sports Day, right before it happens.

It's usually a big event with parents and friends and the neighborhood coming by to see all their children perform at their best. This school is slightly different because of its size. It isn't just their kids (as Sawamura likes to say and Kazuya, reluctantly, has started to call his students), but a few students from two or three of the neighboring smaller schools. He's never seen the field so packed with kids. There are also a lot of cameras and flashing and suddenly Kazuya feels uncomfortably warm. This year it's not only locals that are here. He can see various news channels documenting the event and there are probably other labels walking around, trying to figure out what the next scoop will be. Or perhaps they've already been hinting at it but Kazuya has been avoiding all the gossip. He briefly wonders if they're here for him and while this might be slightly true, he's sure they're more likely to be here to catch a glimpse of Yoichi and Wakana

He decides to stick with Sawamura for most of the day.

Sawamura seems to be oblivious to all the attention, focusing on the kids, high-fiving everyone who is going to race, yelling encouragements as they pass him by, and yelling out happily as the kids make the baskets and reach the finish lines. Kazuya tries to show his support as well and Sawamura drags him from one event to the next. The parents love him as much as the children do. He briefly wonders if Sawamura will have any voice left for the next day

It's around the time the kids finally get their break for lunch (and that Sawamura pulls him over to an empty patch of grass so that they can finally rest as well, how Kazuya was able to crouch for hours on end before is almost a mystery to him now, he really HAS let himself go) that he starts to hear them

"I didn't say she stole MY money. Did you really not know?" "Is she REALLY here? "The NERVE of her." "We should tell the principal to kick her out. Where is she?"

Everything starts to go quiet as Kazuya looks around. There are too many people around, but he manages to find her by the fence behind the diamond. She's looking right at him and Kazuya feels himself stop breathing for a moment. He isn't sure what he was expecting but she looks exactly like she did three years ago, except somehow better. Her hair is up in her typical bun, she's wearing a pink button-up with her trademark pencil skirt. There's a small coat hanging off her arm, which is the only sign he has that she plans to stay for the whole of the day's events.

He gets up, ignores Sawamura's confused, "Miyuki-senpai?" and goes to meet her.

He remembers how Yoichi had sounded over the phone the other day and realizes that when he said her, he hadn't meant Wakana, he had meant Rei. She's smiling at him and once they're close enough, she says, "Miyuki Kazuya, it's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Rei," he all but whispers and he notices people are looking, the cameras are pointing in their direction and he smiles. He's so happy and relieved to see her. He wonders why he hadn't tried contacting her before, where the guilt and fear have gone. He thanks Yoichi, will thank him later as well, for always doing things like this for him, I'm the worst friend, aren't I? He can already see Yoichi's annoyed face as he threatens to punch him if he says anything so stupid again. He laughs, "It's been way too long. I'm sorry."

He finally has the chance to really apologize for everything, to offer his support, to ask how she's been doing, and he marvels at how Seidou is truly a family. His old teammates haven't just been trying to get him to move forward, they have also been helping Rei regain a semblance of her old life.

When they part, it turns into a game. They both know how things will go so they are bold, they grin, and take each other's hands in a firm shake.

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you on the field in the future." It's not a question.

"Of course." It's a promise.

At the end of the day, Sawamura and he are the last to leave the school since Sawamura offered to stay and clean up (and with him Kazuya). The sun is already on the verge of setting and Kazuya can't wait to take a bath and then crawl into bed. He doesn't want to wake up until a week from now.

As they're walking home (or really walking to his house because even now, he's never really asked where Sawamura lives, he imagines not far), Kazuya notices how quiet Sawamura is. He bumps his side with his shoulder, "Lost your voice with all that yelling?"

Sawamura looks over at him and shakes his head. Kazuya is momentarily mesmerized by this side of Sawamura. Quiet, almost shy. He's not pouting or angry, his features calm, slightly sharp on his handsome face. The remaining rays of the sun make his eyes look slightly gold and Kazuya wonders why he's suddenly noticing these things, "What's wrong then?"

The temperature had dropped enough that they were now comfortably wearing jerseys. Sawamura mumbles into the collar of his jersey and Kazuya is annoyed, but only slightly. It's that bad habit of Sawamura's and he wonders if he could tease those mumbled words out of him, is about to do that when Sawamura stops walking, closes his eyes, and yells out, "Do you like Miss Rei?!"

Kazuya is left speechless. At least that answers his other teasing question. Sawamura is as loud as always, "What?"

Sawamura opens his eyes, he's blushing and he can't seem to look him in the eye, "Well, there were those rumors...and then today...I mean, she's really pretty and just..." He goes quiet.

There's a lot here he wants to clear up, but he figures he should start with Sawamura's question, "No. At least, not really."

There's a question in those golden-brown eyes and Kazuya continues to explain, "I'm sure everyone on the baseball team liked her at one point. We were all teenagers and she's a really attractive woman, but that's it. Rei...she scouted me, believed that I could go far, pushed me, pretty much built my whole career. She's not really like my mom, not really an older sister...but yeah, like family."

They're both surprised by how honest he's been, which leads him to his own question, "Rumors? So you knew who I was. Is that why you called me by my full name?"

Sawamura looks embarrassed, "Yeah. I, I was curious about Seidou. I bet Kuramochi-senpai already told you about Rei and her coming to scout me?"

Kazuya nods.

They start walking again, "Well, I started seeing your name come up a lot. I always had trouble with my own catchers, I wasn't very good, sometimes my throws would go wild. I guess. I mean, they felt right, but Wakana, she was my main catcher, it was hard for her to catch them. Anyway, I started following your career. And just, well, then that happened and the rumors..."

They're quiet for a moment. Kazuya thinking back to how Yoichi had called Sawamura's pitch a nasty throw, the way Rei had pointed out Sawamura's staring while they talked and how Kazuya should catch for him, "When I saw him pitch, I knew you two would make a great battery. I knew you would be what could push him to greater heights, and that he would influence you too. All of Seidou. He has the heart of an Ace."

He's curious.

"Do you regret it?"

It's been a few minutes but Sawamura follows his question, turns to him, conviction in his burning eyes, "Never!"

----

SEVEN.

Kazuya finally gets to meet Wakana on his birthday. Yoichi tells him they're going out to celebrate at a fancy restaurant and he's not allowed to say no. Since he is the best man at their future wedding, he supposes it would be rude to not meet the bride-to-be so he pulls out one of his old suits, is relieved it still fits, and decides that's enough effort needed on his part. He also decides to forgo the tie and leaves the first two buttons undone. It's classy.

He's not surprised to see Sawamura also at the restaurant, and he's also not surprised to see him sporting a loud outfit. He's also wearing a suit but his shirt is a bright blue with baseball patterns, he's pulled up the suit jacket sleeves to his elbows (which, might he add, does not match his pants, but it somehow works), and he's actually wearing a tie. There's a girl trying to tame his hair but she soon gives up when Sawamura spots him and calls out, "Miyuki Kazu-mmyaa."

"Eijun!" the girl chides him, "We told you to be quiet!"

She's covering his mouth and let's go once he settles down. He rubs his hand through the back of his hair, ruining whatever work the girl must have done, "Sorry."

The girl shakes her head and turns to him, "So you're the famous Miyuki Kazuya, in the flesh."

Kazuya smiles, "And you must be the infamous money stealing Wakana."

They shake hands and Wakana laughs, "The one and only."

Yoichi comes up behind him, "Good, you're here. I thought I was going to have to send someone to drag you out of bed."

They're escorted to the back where they can dine in private. Yoichi walks in the back with him and Kazuya watches the way Sawamura's body faces Wakana even when they're walking. The way she pushes and holds his arm, laughs at what he says. The way that Sawamura lets her choose where she wants to sit and then makes space so that the table decorations aren't in her way. He sits across from her.

Yoichi whispers at him, "See what I mean?"

Kazuya doesn't need to see them interact to know why Wakana once liked Sawamura, but it definitely solidifies their closeness.

Wakana is very pretty. She has short hair that is slightly tinged with red, natural, she mentions when she sees him looking at her, "I get asked a lot." Apparently, it's a color she inherited from her great grandmother

She's as small as Yoichi claimed her to be, which makes her look tiny with her current company. She's wearing a simple and modest blue dress that matches perfectly with the ties Sawamura and Yoichi are wearing. She's just as honest as Sawamura is, and Kazuya wonders if all the people in his life are like that. It's refreshing. He instantly likes her and knows that Yoichi will be happy. It makes him happy too.

They're waiting on their food when Sawamura tells Yoichi that "Miyuki Kazuya" called Wakana a thief. Yoichi puts down his glass of wine, sending his best friend a glare, "I should have known you wouldn't behave!"

Sawamura is quick to respond, "It's all your fault Kuramochi-senpai! You keep telling that stupid story!!"

"The only thing stupid about that story is YOU Bakamura!!"

They look like children snapping at each other across the table and Wakana is just laughing. She turns to Kazuya, "Did he tell you what actually happened?"

Kazuya nods, "Sort of. Something about borrowing a wallet."

Wakana smiles, "Something like that, yes."

"See! I told you I never said she stole my money!!" Sawamura gets up suddenly but nobody notices the waiter coming with trays until the sound of plates falling to the ground and shattering are heard. But the worst part is probably the cake that Sawamura tries to save. Part of it lands on his hands, some of it on the table, but a big portion of it (thanks to Sawamura's interference), is now all over Wakana's dress. Everyone holds their breath, the waiter looks horrified.

Kazuya knows he shouldn't but he snickers and that seems to bring everything back to life. Wakana laughs and tells the waiter it's ok, she pats his hand reassuringly, "But can we get another cake? We'll pay for both of course."

The man is so relieved, he smiles and nods, and says he'll be right back to clean up, that he can also ask someone to help her out. Sawamura looks constipated and ridiculous standing there with chunks of cake in his hands.

"This is so coming out of your wallet Sawamoron!!" Yoichi cries out as he grabs chunks of cake from Wakana's lap and throws it on the table, "And YOU, I can't believe you did that!"

Kazuya only smirks, looks over at Wakana, and says, "Welcome to the family."

It seems like Wakana isn't just depleting Sawamura's accounts, but also stealing hearts.

----

OMAKE (months later)

It's the wedding night when Sawamura decides to crash at Kazuya's house. They're both exhausted and since they're both going to the same place the next morning, Kazuya doesn't make a fuss. When they make it home, they fight about who will take a shower first and Kazuya wins because, ultimately, this is his house so of course he has dibs. Sawamura pouts as he heads to the living room, ok, ok, just go you evil tanuki bastard.

When Kazuya comes out in a white t-shirt and boxers, he finds Sawamura already passed out on the couch, his arm and leg fallen off the side. He notices that he at least had the sense to take off his suit jacket and shirt. He's only wearing his undershirt and his pants have risen up his shins. Everything else is thrown against the back of the couch and his keys, cellphone, camera, and wallet, are all on the table. He's snoring lightly, his breath coming out more like little sighs, and there's a bit of drool where gravity has decided to do its job.

He's about to wake up Sawamura when he remembers something Wakana told him the first time they met. Right before they left the restaurant, she had pulled him aside, telling the other two NOT to come closer, Next time you get the chance, look inside his wallet. I promise it'll be worth it, and don't worry, he won't mind. He yells a lot but that's all there is.

The wallet is right there and Kazuya wishes it had landed the other way. At least like that, it wouldn't feel like he was snooping. No, he wouldn't. He doesn't really understand why Wakana wants him to look inside, but it's not really any of his business. He shakes his head and walks towards the couch. Before he can even reach forward, Sawamura shifts and mumbles a sleepy, "Kazuya."

Kazuya freezes at the stupid smile on Sawamura's face. He feels his face heat up and he's not sure why. He briefly glances at the wallet again, then moves to shake Sawamura's shoulders.

It takes a moment, a testament to how tired Sawamura is, before his brown eyes open and he sleepily mumbles, "Miyuki Kazuya?"

Kazuya hesitates for a moment. He doesn't have extra bedding and he knows sleeping on the couch is uncomfortable. They were going to share the bed, just like he always does whenever Yoichi visits, but suddenly he wonders if maybe this isn't a good idea. He tells Sawamura it's his turn to shower and nearly drags him to the bathroom. He stands outside just to make sure he doesn't pass out inside and somehow Sawamura looks even more drowsy than before. His skin is red from the heat of the water and they head to the bedroom.

Sawamura is out before his head hits the pillow. Kazuya arranges him on the bed properly and covers him with the blanket.

He finds it hard to sleep, the sound of his name coming from Sawamura's sleepy lips echoing in his head.

---

A/N:

I scoured Reddit for some inspiration and found this interesting prompt: "I never said she stole my money has 7 different meanings based on which word is emphasized." I sort of followed the prompt? LOL

things to note: 1. I just googled "prisoner clothes in japan" and green outfits came up, hence why Rei is dressed in a "green top" 2. I don't actually know how legal proceedings go in japan, if it would take longer or less (but this is fanfic so let's not question it) 3. Again, I don't know how long rehabs take but I'm not aiming for accuracy 4. If it wasn't obvious, Sawamura wasn't in the original Seidou team in this fic (lol) 5. Sports day apparently apparently happens around October (and again, Idk much about it)

I don't think I've ever written anything "complete" for this fandom but I hope you all enjoyed, especially you daiyanerd ^^

p.s. This got out of hand omg it's so long and hardly anything happens i hope you guys don't mind Orz Also, I kind of want to write more for this, maybe Sawamura's side of some of the events, maybe just a continuation, idk....

[raywritesthings]

Happy Accident 3/3

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Thea Queen, Susan Brayden, Adrian Chase, Susan Williams, Quentin Lance, Talia al Ghul, Curtis Holt, Rene Ramirez, Rory Regan Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: Felicity’s punch has consequences no one intended, driving Oliver to take drastic measures with their own unexpected result. *Can be read on AO3, link in bio*

Laurel didn’t know what to think upon stepping through yet another strange portal into their base to find a couple strangers standing there. She’d heard the others mention recruits, of course, but it seemed odd not finding her teammates there waiting for them. At least, not both her old teammates.

Thea stood from a chair at the computer monitors, arms crossing as she eyed Laurel with a mix of mistrust and pain. “Rene and Rory filled me in. So, any sudden, overpowering need to kill a person yet?”

“Aside from your usual moods,” one of the men added. Laurel cringed; Iris had told her that a number of the others’ Earth-2 doppelgangers had also been criminals, but she did not love being judged as one herself.

“Where’s Felicity?” The other man asked.

“Felicity is taking a leave of absence,” Oliver answered simply, which Laurel thought was probably for the best rather than getting into details. She was still shocked it had even happened. “And we’ll be monitoring the situation with Laurel to see if the Lotus is necessary and if we can acquire more of it.”

The first man raised his eyebrows. “I thought the plan was bring her back, lock her in a cell.”

“Well, considering I haven’t even been read my charges let alone my rights, I’m not sure I agree with that plan,” Laurel decided to interject. “There’s also the fact that I’m not really who you think I am. When Ollie tried to bring back my doppelganger, it didn’t work, but somehow he found my soul and brought me back instead.”

“And you are…?” The second of the two men asked.

Oliver stepped up beside her and laid a hand at the small of her back. “Rory, Rene, I’d like you to meet the Dinah Laurel Lance original to Earth-1, the Black Canary and someone very important to me.”

The one she could guess was named Rory gave a start; Rene looked skeptical; but in that moment, Laurel really only had eyes for Thea, who gasped and swayed a half-step forward before catching herself.

“You’re really…?”

Laurel nodded, a smile growing on her face as Thea rushed forward.

Before her friend’s arms could circle round her however, Rene called out. “Wait a minute. Hoss, how do we know she isn’t just playing you again?”

“I mean, the Flash team thinks it’s her, so if she’s not that’s gonna be awkward,” Curtis remarked finally. “I mean, I only met Laurel — the real Laurel — once. I only met her doppelganger once, too, so that doesn’t help much, I guess. But if I had to say which one this Laurel reminds me of more, it’s probably the real one. I think?”

“Thanks, Curtis,” Oliver said, not doing much to disguise how insincerely that was meant. “Laurel - this Laurel - knows things that only the version I knew would really be aware of. Cisco tested that for himself as well.”

“Maybe people would feel better with one more test?” Rory suggested.

“I’ve got something,” Thea said. She turned to Laurel and asked, “What did I tell you about Alex compared to Roy?”

It took Laurel a moment to recall, but she nearly laughed when she did. “That you’d be surprised who uses more tongue?” Beside her, Ollie pulled a disgusted face.

“It’s you,” Thea declared, then practically squealed as she launched herself into Laurel’s arms. Laurel grinned from ear to ear as she hugged her friend back just as tightly. This, in some ways, truly felt like a homecoming.

Thea pulled back abruptly, her eyes darting from Laurel to Oliver and back again. “But this is — I mean you guys — did you tell her?”

“Tell me what?” Laurel asked, looking back at Oliver who had gone a remarkable pink color.

“One thing at a time,” he said. “First thing’s first; Thea, I’m gonna need your help drafting a proposal.”

“Okay. To City Council?”

“To the President of the United States.”

More than a few jaws dropped, and Laurel waited for Oliver to break or otherwise indicate he was joking. Yet apparently he wasn’t.

As it turned out, only the previous month Oliver’s team, Barry’s team and Sara and her crew had all repelled an alien invasion — because of course there were aliens — along with a different alien from a totally separate world and had been declared heroes by the President. Who had been the Vice President, last thing Laurel knew.

Ollie’s plan was to use that goodwill from their Commander in Chief to parlay some kind of deal for Laurel to receive immunity against being prosecuted. It wasn’t a terrible idea, all things considered, except for one small problem.

“This might just cover me for everything I did as Black Canary in the past, but it’s not going to hold up for anything I continue to do.”

Oliver looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean when I go back out in the field with you guys. I’m going back out there,” she added before he could even start. To her annoyance, the Queen siblings shared an uneasy look. “I understand that what happened last spring was traumatic. It was for me, too. But I am not going to let some kind of fear from what Darhk did to me make me waste my second shot at life.”

“We know,” Thea said. “We just — it’s been hard without you. I haven’t even been going out in the field much. Things were rough.”

Laurel rubbed Thea’s shoulder with one hand. “I’m sorry, and I’m glad you’re giving yourself some space to figure things out. But I don’t need time off. In fact, I’m pretty sure you need as many hands on deck as possible,” she added to Oliver, “considering Felicity is taking time off and John also doesn’t seem to be around.”

Oliver and Thea both looked down. “John’s in prison.”

“What?”

“He was framed by a superior officer,” Thea said. “Cause he went back for a fourth tour. Like I said, things were rough.”

Laurel couldn’t believe what she was hearing. John couldn’t be sitting in prison; he had a family to take care of, a daughter to watch grow up. “Can we get him pardoned with me?”

“I have a friend working on his case,” Oliver told her. “That’s the best hope we have for him right now.”

Privately, Laurel made a note to review said case and said friend’s handling of it so far, but there wasn’t much else she could say now without knowing all the facts. She’d have to see John as soon as she was allowed to walk about without risk of ending up the block above or below him.

All too soon, Laurel found herself standing in one of Oliver’s beta sites in front of a large screen that currently displayed the president’s seal. Oliver stood beside her dressed in his Green Arrow uniform.

The screen finally changed, showing President Brayden sitting at her desk in the Oval Office. “Green Arrow, Miss Lance.”

“Madame President,” Oliver said. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us in this manner.”

“I’ll admit, there was some debate on my part as to whether I should insist on a meeting face-to-face. This is a very sensitive matter. But why don’t you explain from the beginning what happened to you back in April, Miss Lance?”

Laurel nodded, taking a deep breath as she recalled the story they had practiced. She didn’t relish getting to lie to the president, but all of them had agreed that the less world governments knew about the Lazarus Pits, the better. “Last April, I was taken from the hospital by men working for Damien Darhk. I guess they must have substituted some kind of fake body or something for me to make everyone think I had died. According to them, since I had lived, he wasn’t done punishing my father for betraying him. But I guess Darhk was killed before he could make good on his promise

“I was moved from place to place. They didn’t seem to know what they were going to do with me, and there wasn’t a good window of escape for a long time. I wasn’t tortured, but they would starve me or leave me without water for periods of time, and I was still recovering from my injuries.

“What allowed me to finally escape was me discovering my metahuman abilities.”

“And these are?”

She’d been expecting that question; she and Oliver had agreed it was best to be forthcoming about this development so it didn’t look like she’d been concealing something on purpose from the Commander in Chief. “I can produce screams at loud enough frequencies that the sound waves are visible and can physically impact a target. I’d offer to demonstrate, but I imagine that wouldn’t be very good for your speakers.”

“No, probably not,” Brayden agreed wryly. “And upon escaping, you returned to your city and your team.”

“Yes, Madame President,” Oliver confirmed. “We were unbelievably grateful to have Laurel back with us. But we’re afraid to lose her again.”

“Green Arrow and the others wanted me to ask you for a pardon,” Laurel said. “But if I was granted one, it wouldn’t allow me to continue to operate as Black Canary.”

“And that’s something you wish to do.”

“Yes. Being the Black Canary is a part of me, and it’s the best way I know how to help people.” Laurel shrugged. “As much as I have loved being a lawyer, I know there’s no practice or District Attorney’s office that would take a publicly known vigilante. A lot of other jobs would be leery of it, too. That’s why I have a proposal.”

President Brayden steepled her hands together and leaned a little closer towards the camera. “I’m listening.”

“I understand that last month you gave an address commending my fellow heroes. You see the need for what we do, but I imagine there are some in Washington who don’t like the idea of trusting us blindly.” Laurel laid a hand over her chest. “With my identity known, I could act as a liaison of sorts between my team and your administration. I’m accountable to both sides since everyone knows who I am.”

Brayden thought for a few moments. “That would be a tremendous responsibility for you to take on, answering for any of the actions your fellows take.”

“It would be my honor to represent each and every one of them, Madame President,” Laurel said. Okay, so she didn’t actually know Rene or Rory or even Curtis all that well, let alone most of the people Sara traveled with. But Laurel trusted Oliver and Sara’s judgement in who they would choose to fight alongside them.

“And we would be honored to have Laurel representing us,” Oliver added. “Not one of us is going to take the trust she, you or the greater public have placed in us for granted.”

“Let me say that this arrangement is an attractive idea,” Brayden finally said. “But I will need time to discuss it with my advisors. You can expect a call from me as to my final decision within two days, Black Canary. Thank you for your time.” With that, the president signed off.

“I think that went well?” Laurel said, turning to Oliver.

“I’m inclined to agree. No matter what happens, though, we’ll handle it,” Oliver told her.

A week of negotiations ensued. All the details of Laurel’s new appointment had to be worked out; how and when and to which agency or body Laurel would be reporting to, what she was expected to disclose and what infringed on the other’s expectations of privacy. She remained down in the beta site the entire time, visits from Thea or Oliver with food and reminders to sleep breaking up the monotony of video calls and working out, testing the limits of the body she had woken up in. She really was going to have to send a blood sample to Caitlin for analysis; whether it was the meta gene or something about Earth 2, she felt stronger and more durable than ever, and part of her was itching to get out into a real fight to see for herself.

She took a round trip on a private plane to sign the final documents in D.C., shaking hands with President Brayden immediately after doing so while Secret Service members stood incredibly close. She supposed a metahuman would present a highly unique risk to the life of their charge.

“I’m hopeful that this is the start of a beautiful partnership, Laurel,” the president told her as the White House cameraman snapped their picture for the next morning’s press release. Laurel would not be attending since she would be in a special closed court session back home getting her death overturned.

“I’m hoping with you, Madame President.”

It was still early evening when she arrived back in Starling even though a whole day had passed for her. “I’m exhausted, and I miss a real bed,” she admitted to Oliver, who had been waiting just outside the tarmac to pick her up. She was sure once she had fallen into the cot in the beta site she wouldn’t care what she was sleeping on, but right now with her freedom very nearly secured, she longed for those kind of simple comforts.

“Why don’t you come back with me instead?” He asked.

Laurel stilled for a moment, then gave a quiet, “Okay.”

She was still so confused about what was going on with Oliver. She had wanted to chalk up his happiness, the frequent touching and the near-constant praise to just the newness of her being back, but it had been nearly two weeks and there was no sign of it slowing. Then there was the sort of excited buzzing about Thea seemed to do whenever Oliver so much as entered the same room as Laurel. Laurel recognized the behavior from Thea’s childhood; she had a secret, and she wanted to tell it. If she hadn’t been so busy working out the details of her new life as a publicly sanctioned vigilante, Laurel would have demanded her friend just tell her already.

Stranger still was the continued lack of Felicity’s presence and Oliver’s continued lack of seeming to care about that. Laurel had honestly thought the couple would have made up by now and resumed their lives together, yet her resurrection had seen them further apart than ever. She didn’t have the whole story yet; Laurel knew something had happened to a man named Billy who Felicity had obviously cared for, and there also appeared to be tension surrounding the way Felicity and Oliver had been clashing on leading the team’s new recruits, but Laurel would have thought Oliver would be devastated to be experiencing even more troubles with the love of his life. What exactly was she missing here?

All these thoughts were running through her mind as Oliver parked the car in the garage attached to his new home as the Mayor of Star City. He came around to lead her up through the house and to what looked to be an unused guest bedroom. Laurel bid him goodnight and climbed beneath the covers, letting herself succumb to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be an extremely important day, and Laurel wanted to be prepared for it.

She woke up to Oliver’s soft knock on her door the next morning, a breakfast tray in his hands. Laurel smiled and combed some of her hair back from her face. “Breakfast in bed? Careful, I might not want to go back to my apartment.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind the company,” he replied, his eyes soft once again as he gazed at her. Laurel took a bite of her eggs so she wouldn’t be expected to reply. “I also thought you might like to call your dad before the big announcement from the president this morning.” He took out his phone and a piece of paper, setting both down on the edge of her bed. “That’s the number to the rehab facility.”

“Thank you, Ollie. For everything. Really, it’s kind of impossible to sum up how much I owe you for all this.”

Oliver shook his head. “You don’t owe me a thing. It’s what you deserve from me.”

She was speechless again. Laurel looked down, taking up the paper and fiddling with it.

“I’ll let you make that call,” Oliver said, backing out of the room.

Laurel willed the heat rising up her neck and into her cheeks back down as she tapped each number in its sequence. She waited as it rang twice before a woman with a pleasantly calm voice answered. “Evergreen Care Center, how can I help you today?”

“Hi, my father is staying at your facility right now, and I was hoping to speak to him. Quentin Lance?”

“Date of birth?”

Laurel gave it, followed by his phone number and the last four digits of his social. She’d memorized such information years ago after her mother had left them and Laurel had realized she would be his designated representative in any emergency situation.

“Let’s see here. Oh, yes, we do have Quentin with us. I’ll see if he’s up to a phone call this morning,” the woman replied, and Laurel felt her heart sink lower in her chest. She should have called sooner. “One moment, please.”

Laurel waited as she was put on hold, her fingers drumming on the bedspread a counterpoint to the soothing music that played. Eventually it cut out, and her father’s voice — tired to her ears — came on the line.

“Sara? You’re back in town?”

Laurel’s lips pressed together for a moment before she answered, “I’m not Sara, daddy.”

She heard a sharp gasp, then a thump that had her worried, but her dad asked, “Laurel?”

“Mm-hm. I’m alive. Ollie — it’s complicated — but Ollie found out about another Pit, and I’m okay now.”

“Oh, God. Oh, thank God. You — I’ve missed you so much, missed your voice, baby. Where are you?”

“I’m in the city. Listen, I’m going to get myself declared alive again today, and I’ll come visit. Please don’t check out of this place, dad. If you need it, you need it. I want you to get the help you need.”

“I needed you, honey,” he argued. “This stuff, this was just to keep me going. But I’ll be fine with you back, I promise.”

“When does the program end?” She asked.

“Nother two weeks,” was his grudging reply.

“Then just do the two weeks. I’ll still be here. I want you to learn how to do this without me or Sara, because you know we lead crazy lives. Anything could happen.”

“Hey, you just said you’re still gonna be there.”

“I know.” There was a knock on her doorframe, and Laurel looked up. Thea was standing there with a suit bag that was probably holding her court clothes. “I need to get ready for my appointment. We’ll talk about this when I come see you, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. I never said it enough, before, but I- you’re my world, Laurel.”

She swallowed down the lump in her throat and said, “I’ll see you soon, dad.” Laurel drew in a breath as she hung up and let it out before getting up and facing Thea. “Okay. Shower?”

“Bathroom’s down the hall to the left,” Thea told her.

Laurel took a quick one, realizing belatedly that she had left the suit bag with Thea in her temporary room. She pinned her hair up and wrapped a towel around herself, hoping to sneak down the hall unnoticed. But as she drew up towards the guest bedroom door, she heard voices.

“I can’t believe you still haven’t told her,” Thea complained.

“It’s not exactly something that comes up in a normal conversation,” Oliver replied.

“Yeah, but how you feel at least? Ollie, you have a real chance to be happy, and I don’t want to see you walk away from that because you think you’re unworthy or something like that.”

As much as Laurel desperately wanted to know what Oliver’s response to that would be, she was hearing a conversation that was clearly meant to be private. She was also in danger of running late if she didn’t get dressed soon, not to mention that she was starting to get a little cold out in the hall with nothing but a towel on.

So Laurel pushed the door open the full way. “If I can have the room for a few minutes?”

The Queen siblings looked her way, but only Oliver sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes unmistakably flicked up and down her body for a moment, and Laurel flushed with heat a second time that morning at the way he licked his lips.

Thea crossed between them, but it wasn’t until she called, “Ollie, coming?” that either of them seemed to snap out of it.

“Right. Uh, sorry.”

Laurel backed up to give him room as he practically fled out into the hall, and she thought she caught Thea smirking as her younger friend shut the door. Laurel fanned her face with one hand as she grabbed her clothes to finally change.

Her day in court was short-lived considering all she was being required to do was appear in person and give the judge the written version of the statement she had delivered to the president, signed by both herself and Brayden. Judge Moore reviewed the document before adding her own signature.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss Lance.”

Laurel smirked. Moore couldn’t know how literally that statement applied to her case. “Thank you, judge.”

She was shepherded into the car around the side of the courthouse. “Brayden’s press conference just finished up,” Thea told her. “You’re officially the world’s first publically-sanctioned hero. You ready for a gig in PR?”

“I guess we’ll find out tonight,” Laurel answered. Oliver had scheduled a gala for tonight, ostensibly to check in with some of the higher-society constituents, but really to serve as Laurel’s reintroduction to Star City. It was strange how fast everything seemed to move now that she was alive again. And she was so, so glad for it. Her life had always been messy and complicated and confusing. She hadn’t known what to do with all that peace.

---

Adrian Chase had a problem. And he hadn’t planned for problems.

Everything he had worked for these last five years, every piece he had put in place, had ensured that Oliver was walking right down the path he had designed for him without even knowing it, all the while thinking he had a fighting chance. There simply weren’t room for mistakes.

But one had apparently been made, and as the morning news told him, it all came down to Dinah Laurel Lance.

Adrian had been satisfied overall with the Black Siren’s performance and the effect she had worked on Oliver and his team, the trauma that having to fight a woman that looked like their departed friend had brought on. Even if he had had to remind the woman of her place now and then, she had always been meant as more of a blunt instrument than anything. Something to let out and play for a while before she was rounded up by ARGUS’ agents.

At least, that was what Adrian had assumed had happened to her. That had been his first mistake.

Next had been not trying harder to learn why Oliver had taken a sudden trip out of the country or why he had come back looking as though he were walking on clouds. Strange, considering that his spying had informed him that Felicity Smoak was no longer going to the Green Arrow’s base of operations. If Oliver’s team had truly splintered so badly, what could he be happy about?

In his guise as DA, he had had no luck getting his ‘friend’ to open up to him about it, or the impromptu press conference and gala he had scheduled two weeks after his strange behavior had begun. All Oliver had said was, “You’ll see.”

And he was seeing it now. He was seeing her right on his television screen.

“President Brayden, surprising the nation and perhaps the world this morning with a stunning revelation — Star City’s own Dinah Laurel Lance is alive and well. In a written statement, Miss Lance explains that she was taken captive by men associated with the late terrorist Damien Darhk and managed to escape only last month. Lance was famously exposed by her friend Mayor Oliver Queen as the vigilante known as the Black Canary. In the president’s release, she indicated that not only will charges not be brought against Black Canary, but instead Miss Lance will be taking on the role of official liaison between the Capitol and the growing roster of masked men and women we have seen take place over the years. We at Channel 52 say welcome back, Miss Lance, and Star City should be happy to know their Canary has flown home.”

He wanted to break something. How dare that woman? Who did she think she was, turning her back on him after he had rescued her from the Flash’s pipeline and running into Oliver’s arms? What sort of game was she playing?

Since he was on the guest list for Oliver’s gala tonight, he intended to find out. After all, he was pretty sure who the guest of honor was going to be.

Sure enough, that night Adrian stood in a crowd that applauded as Oliver led who everyone thought was their miraculously returned hero up to a podium with her arm looped through his. His eyes practically shined as he let Laurel go and stood just off to the side to give her the floor.

“Thank you,” she began, a picture of grace and humility. She had perfected her act in the weeks since Adrian had seen her last, and he would be hard-pressed to tell the difference now between her and the original. He could acknowledge a guise well done.

“I’m thankful and relieved to be able to stand here in front of you all tonight and be welcomed back to my home. I can’t wait to get back to work making this city the best that it can be, and I hope you all feel the same.

“I’ve been doing everything I can to catch up on what I missed while I was gone. One of those things is the significant damage done to the Glades district last spring, a section of our city which has already suffered too much over the years. There is a donation plate available tonight to help fund the relief efforts Oliver and his administration have put in place. Please consider giving if you are able.

“That’s all I really have to say at this time. I’d rather speak to you all personally. I ask that the questions about my captivity be limited. It’s not exactly a period of my life that I want to dwell on.”

Adrian fought down a smirk at that. Clever, he had to give her that.

“Thank you.” Laurel Lance stepped back from the podium and rejoined Oliver as the two made their way out to the floor to speak with groups of people here and there. They made a fine couple, which begged the question: what had she told Oliver? How had she convinced him to go along with this? Adrian had clearly underestimated the power even a shadow of the woman Oliver had lost last year would have over him.

Eventually, the pair of them made their way around the room to where he stood. “Laurel, this is Adrian Chase, my DA.”

“Well, it’s good to meet you.” There was not a hint of recognition in her features. Did she hope that here, in public, they were trapped into playing their roles, that he wouldn’t be able to get the truth out of her?

For now, he smiled politely. “You as well.”

“Adrian’s agreed to help with John’s case,” Oliver added in an undertone.

Her eyes lit up. “I was hoping to hear more of the details on that.”

Well that was interesting. Was she angling to speak with him now?

“I’d be happy to get such an accomplished lawyer’s position on it. Who knows? If things had been different, we could’ve been working this together,” Adrian said, his one hand clenched right where it rested in his pocket as she failed to give any hint that she understood his double meaning. “If I could borrow Miss Lance for a moment, Oliver? Shop talk, you could call it.”

“That’s fine with me. I’m sure you and Laurel have a lot to say on the subject. I’ll just be making the rounds.” With a last smile in Laurel Lance’s direction, the man turned and walked back through the crowd.

“It’s a little loud in here, don’t you think?” Adrian asked, not waiting for an answer before he turned and left the main hall. There was a smaller, unused room in the venue just across the hall, a few tables and chairs being stored and little else. It would do.

“So, Oliver told me you were able to have John remain here by invoking the Star City charter,” she said as she entered the room.

Adrian rolled his eyes. “What exactly is your plan here?”

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“You can drop the act, Siren,” he said, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “I highly doubt Oliver is listening in considering how well you’ve apparently wrapped him around your finger. I have to wonder how you did it.”

She stared at him. “How do you know about Black Siren?”

Adrian was about fed up with the games. “How does the man who sprung you from a four-by-four cell know who you are? You can play dumb with Oliver, but it won’t work on me.”

“You’re Prometheus,” she breathed, and the shock looked so genuine, he found himself honestly wondering if she somehow hadn’t known, no matter that he knew she did.

“I’m glad you’re caught up, but you seem to need a reminder of who exactly is in charge here,” Adrian said, reaching swiftly to circle his hand around her throat.

Her eyes bulged as her nails dug sharply into his hand. He threw her down before her kick could connect with his side; he just felt the scrape of her heel against his pant leg.

“This new life you’re trying to build yourself here on this Earth, you wouldn’t have it without me. I can take it away just as easily.”

She shot up and lunged at him immediately, and Adrian sidestepped her, letting her careen straight into one of the tables. The crash did not seem to faze her, for she whirled around and was on him before he could dodge a second time, clawing and punching at every bit of him she could reach. Her eyes were wild, and without his training he might have been overwhelmed.

But he rammed her with his shoulder to send her staggering back, one of her heels snapping. 

Adrian straightened his jacket, reaching into an inner pocket for his stars as she rallied, lips pulled back in an animalistic snarl.

One thing was finally clear: this was not the Black Siren. This was something else. Something worse.

---

Oliver walked through the throng of people, nodding in acknowledgement whenever he caught the eye of someone he and Laurel had already spoken to. So far, the night had gone off without a hitch, for which he was immensely grateful. Laurel deserved a night of celebration like this.

He kept waiting for some sign that he was dreaming again, some indication that it was all about to be ripped away. He didn’t get lucky like this, not ever.

There was so much he wanted to say to her, it was hard to put the feeling into words. Thea made it sound so easy, but then Thea didn’t know how he had failed to let Laurel know what she meant to him that night in the hospital when she confessed her own feelings. Feelings she hadn’t spoken of or acted on since. Not even now that he and Felicity were well and truly estranged.

He had expected to feel more regret over that, but truthfully it had made some things easier. The recruits had started shaping up more, whether that was out of fear of being kicked off the team or what he couldn’t exactly say. But he was glad to be able to feel in control of this unit he had agreed to take on. Thea was coming down to the base more to borrow the training area, too, and he had a feeling she was inching back towards the life of Speedy now that her partner in the field had returned. With Laurel’s new role official, she would be joining them down in the bunker rather than the beta site as well. It would be good to have more people with experience than just himself out there.

But how to show Laurel that, that he was happy and hopeful about the future again? And a future with her. It wasn’t even a question of if he should tell her; he didn’t think he could hide the way he felt for very long. When she had come back to her room that morning looking so much like the dream he had had, Oliver had forgotten how to breathe for a moment. Forgotten, too, that he was not her fiancé with the permission to look upon her with awe and desire.

She deserved to know. He just had to get over this old fear of his, convince himself he wouldn’t screw it up this time, and tell her.

Oliver wandered the perimeter of the room as these thoughts played out in his head until he found himself standing near the door he had made note that Adrian and Laurel had left through. He wanted to be able to catch her when she came back, missing her by his side already.

“I was starting to wonder if I might catch you alone.”

He froze. “Susan…”

It was not that he had forgotten the reporter he had taken on a date. But guilt churned in his stomach all the same as he turned to face her fully. There was no reason for it; Laurel had been, as far as he had known, beyond his reach in this life, and had given her deathbed blessing to him finding happiness without her — even if she had felt that would be with Felicity at the time. 

“You must be really happy to have her back,” Susan said.

“I am,” he answered with a small smile he couldn’t help. He felt guilt towards Susan as well, considering what he knew was really in his heart. He should have called her to end things before now. “Listen, about, um—”

Susan held up a hand to stop his halting attempt. “It’s been nice, Oliver, but I’d have to be blind not to see what Laurel Lance means to you. And I’m big enough to know there’s little point getting in between that.” She smirked as she added, “Probably better I don’t get too heavily involved with the politician I’m trying to cover anyway.”

Oliver nodded. “Thank you. Really.”

She nodded and turned to leave. The relief that Oliver felt was cut short when he heard a loud crash from somewhere out in the venue. Susan pivoted on the balls of her feet.

“What was that?”

“I’m not sure.” Oliver slipped out of the door, unsurprised when Susan followed him. He was fairly certain it had come from the room directly ahead. “Stay behind me, okay?” He asked as he cautiously approached the door, which had been left just slightly ajar. He peered through the gap, eyes widening in alarm at what he saw.

Adrian stood in the middle of the floor, his suit and hair rumpled and a split lip slowly leaking blood. And Laurel, missing one shoe and the other snapped off at the heel, struggled to free the skirt of her dress from where it was pinned to the wall by three throwing stars.

“I’d love to understand what you really are, but Oliver isn’t ready to know my secret yet. I’m afraid there’ll be need for a fresh grave in Starling Cemetery.” Adrian flicked his wrist with practiced ease, another star sailing through the air.

Oliver threw the door open and leapt in front, remembering Susan’s presence at the last minute. He forced his instinct to snatch the weapon out of the air down, instead letting it slash his upper-left arm, teeth gritting at the pain. But the weapon clattered uselessly several feet from Laurel.

He turned to see Adrian’s shocked gaze, and Oliver willed his voice to remain steady as he asked, “What’s the meaning of this?”

Adrian’s answer was cut off by the rip of fabric, and Oliver ducked as Laurel released a sonic scream, features contorted with blind rage. Adrian fell to it, hands clapped over his ears as he cried out in agony.

Laurel marched towards him, her intent to worsen Adrian’s suffering clear. Oliver reached out and caught her around the waist. “Laurel! Laurel, stop!”

The scream died, and she blinked as if coming back to herself. “I- I wasn’t — oh, God.”

“Hey, it‘s okay.” He rubbed her back as she sagged against his shoulder. It was clear what must have happened; the blood lust had been triggered during whatever fight had broken out here. He was just glad he had intervened in time to keep a life off her conscious. Even if it was the life of a man who must have had some sort of long game to betray Oliver planned. Who really was Adrian Chase?

He caught Susan’s eye as she surveyed the whole scene and asked, “Can you call 911?”

She nodded. “I take it the DA is actually our Throwing Star Killer,” Susan remarked, gesturing to the weapons still in the wall, little strips of Laurel’s dress hanging from them.

“Looks like it,” he agreed. “I don’t have a statement on that just now. I, uh, I’ll see what the police are able to find out about it.”

They stuck around long enough to see Adrian taken away. He was only just beginning to stir as he was led away in handcuffs to be looked over at the hospital before being transferred into the SCPD’s custody. Oliver also placed a discrete call to Lyla’s office to see what ARGUS could do about assuming jurisdiction over the case as soon as possible. Adrian knew far too much, even if Oliver didn’t yet understand how.

Laurel’s other shoe was located, and he helped her to hobble towards the back entrance of the venue, hoping to shield her from as much of the press as possible. The last thing needed right now was the press photographing her in a dress with the skirt torn halfway up her thigh.

The driver took them back to his place. Oliver knew it was likely only Laurel’s shock at how she had lost control that was keeping her from asking to be dropped off at either the beta site or the old apartment Thea still owned. She would probably return to the latter soon if he didn’t say anything. Didn’t make any kind of sign.

Once they were inside, Laurel bent down and undid the straps that were barely holding her broken shoes on. “Well, some night,” she remarked with her head still tilted down, hair half-hiding her face.

“It wouldn’t be Star City if something eventful didn’t happen,” he replied. “Was, uh, was that the first time you’ve used…”

“The sonic scream? On purpose, yeah. I didn’t really know how strong it would be. I could’ve killed him.” Her eyes had a haunted look to them as she continued, “One second we were just talking, the next was like he just flipped personalities, was trying to threaten me. He thought I was her. Siren.”

“If he’s really Prometheus, then that makes sense.”

“The way he talked about me – her,” she amended, giving a slight shake of her head as if to clear it. “It was like he thought he owned her. The others told me the things she did, but nobody should be talked to like that.”

“I know,” he agreed. “She told me that she wanted out. I never found out if it was the truth or a lie.” Seeing the way his Laurel felt about it now, he thought maybe it just might have been a truth, even one that Black Siren hadn’t actually wanted to admit to herself. Or maybe that was wishful thinking; thanks to the others, he would never know.

“Then he attacked me. I just lost it, and when you were hurt—” Her hand reached out, just barely brushing his arm below the gaze bandage a paramedic had applied. “If you hadn’t stopped me, I would have killed him,” she stated. “I guess I’m not as different from her as I thought.”

“Maybe, but that’s not such a bad thing,” he said. She looked up at him in surprise. “If I hadn’t seen some of you in her, I might not have gone so far to try and bring her back. I might never have known there was a way to save you. Black Siren wasn’t evil, no matter what the others say,” he added. “I think she was just lost. You know what that’s like.”

She nodded.

“But you’re not a killer, Laurel. That was the effect of the Pit.”

“I was hoping the new one wouldn’t have the same side effects.”

“So was I,” he admitted. “But we’ll get more of the Lotus. You’ll be fine, just like Thea.”

Laurel’s lips twisted in a funny half smile. “Thea doesn’t seem fine right now. I think she’s going to lose it if you don’t tell me whatever it is she wants you to.”

Oliver swallowed. There it was. He was being handed a perfect opportunity to open up, to be truthful about his feelings. There was never anything half as terrifying as that. “Thea… what she wants me to tell you, it wouldn’t make any sense to come right out and say. There’s things you have to know.”

“Like?”

“Like how much losing you hurt. That it caused me to look back on the last few years and think of all the time I wasted. How much I wished things had been different for you and me.”

Laurel’s throat bobbed, but she remained silent, listening.

“And a couple months ago, my wish was granted.”

“A couple months?” She asked, and he didn’t blame her for the confusion. Laurel had only been back for a month.

“Yeah. See, when the Dominators came to Earth, they took a few of us hostage, to try and study us for potential weaknesses. We were placed in some kind of stasis where our minds went to a made-up reality based on our dearest-held dreams. Thea and I were back at the Manor with mom and my father. They were alive.”

“Oh, Ollie,” Laurel said softly.

“Yeah. The thing was, you were there, too. And it was almost our wedding day.”

Laurel’s mouth fell open. He didn’t know if the shock on her face was a good or bad thing, but Oliver also knew that he needed to say this no matter the outcome.

“I love you, Laurel,” he confessed. “And I know it doesn’t make up for all the years or the ways that I’ve hurt you whether I meant to or not. All I know is, when you told me how you still felt, all I could think about was what could’ve been for us. It haunted me the whole time that I thought we’d lost that chance.” Even now, he could see her in that beautiful white gown, her face so sad as he was forced to leave to help the others. “I wondered how I hadn’t seen it, why you couldn’t have said something before.”

“You were happy,” she said, as if that was all that needed saying. Her eyes shone bright with unshed tears. “You were happier without me.”

He shook his head. “The one thing I haven’t been this past year is happy without you. This, right now, is the best I have felt in a long time.”

He didn’t just mean because he had finally given voice to his feelings. Oliver had a team that was learning to respect his judgement calls in the base and in the field; he honestly didn’t miss the constant back talk on the comms. He felt better, too, seeing Thea happier and knowing that once Quentin finished his rehab program that he would come home to his daughter and be whole again. The looming threat of Prometheus had been ended as abruptly as it had begun. None of this would have been possible without Laurel.

“I know this cannot be an easy decision to make. I understand if, whatever our feelings for each other are, you’d prefer to remain as we were before that night. All I’ll ever ask of you is to be part of my life, Laurel, because it’s a far less full one without you,” he finished.

Her head tilted as her lips pressed right together for a moment, considering him. Then at last she stepped forward, cupping his cheek with her hand. “You know I never do things halfway, Ollie.” She rose onto her tiptoes, her hand at his cheek guiding his lips to meet hers in that perfect synchronous dance he had longed for, so much better than his dream for knowing that it was real.

Oliver smoothed his hands over her arms, down her back and up into her hair, unable to choose now that he was granted it all. Laurel seemed of a similar mind, hands cupping his face then smoothing down his shoulders, then up and his suit jacket. They were each aware of the time they had wasted before and how they could never get it back, and it spurred them on towards making the most of the time they had ahead. The time they very nearly hadn’t had.

He regretted what had happened to Laurel’s counterpart from Earth-2. No version of her deserved a violent end in his eyes. He took some comfort at least that she was now free from men like Adrian or Zoom. Maybe her soul had gone to whatever was next beyond the grave to find the Ollie she had truly loved and not just the man that looked like him. He chose to believe that, since he’d been granted the same beautiful dream in its own way.

For all that he and Laurel had suffered through, if it meant they arrived at this point together, Oliver wouldn’t change it. No matter how tempting it could be to fix the past, he knew how fragile time could be. And this time, at last, was theirs.

---

Talia al Ghul was more familiar with disappointment than one of her ability and lineage would like. Her first disappointment had come from her Beloved. Bruce had been a fine warrior, full of discipline, intellect, skill and honor. Yet he had lacked the conviction to bring a permanent end to those who committed evil in the world and so he had left her and her father’s League behind.

Then there had been her father himself. She could admit with chagrin that Bruce had been the one to initially question her father’s intention to pass on the title of Ra’s al Ghul to her. As the years had worn on, Talia had seen for herself that he would never do so. And so she had left, forming her own following to carry on the mission she still believed in.

Yet now, two of her own students had disappointed her one after the other. Oliver Queen and the one who called himself Adrian Chase. The former had killed her father and handed the League of Assassins to a traitor which caused it to fail less than a year later, and the latter had failed to be her instrument of revenge. Instead, she currently watched as the news continued to cover his arrest and the accusations mounting against him. Something would have to be done, and quickly. She was not ready for The connection Mr. Chase had to her to be revealed, as it might should he be questioned.

Talia had left it up to her student to plan the reckoning Oliver should face, who it would involve and where it would be. All of this would have to be abandoned now, and more planning would have to be done. Especially to accommodate the unexpected wrinkle that had developed: the return of this Earth’s Dinah Laurel Lance, Oliver’s own Beloved.

Talia’s spies had followed Oliver and his associates’ progress to the mountains of Siberia and confirmed to her that one of the rumored Lazarus Pits was in that location. She had also been made aware of the comings and goings of Miss Lance to and from the United States’ Capitol. Yet she had not realized until tonight — nor had Mr. Chase, it seemed — that rather than the copy of her from another Earth, Oliver had somehow managed to resurrect the original. It would be like him to play with those kind of forces with little regard for any consequences.

Talia left her current base of operations to deal with one of those consequences. Mr. Chase was going to be moved from where he was being seen at Star City General to a holding cell at the downtown precinct. It was her task to ensure this never came to pass.

She took up her position only minutes before Mr. Chase was escorted out the front doors towards a waiting transport van. From the rooftop across the street, she watched her chosen spy approach at a walking pace, the umbrella he had taken from their supply store tucked under his arm. She saw the moment he fired the jet of poison gas from a crushed cyanide ampule, though it was truly invisible to the eye, then smirked as an officer moved to intercept him from fully crossing paths with the police escort. Her agent backed away, feigning as though he had not realized what was going on, and crossed the street to continue his walk.

Just as Mr. Chase was walked up the steps of the transport van, he collapsed to one knee, the poison already taking its effect. None of those around him would realize that was what it was, of course. To them, it would appear as though he suffered a sudden heart attack. They would see the matter as closed and put the unfortunate memory of their fallen District Attorney behind them.

Oliver would suspect, of course. Oliver always suspected. But he would only have his suspicions. For now, Talia would retreat and reassess the best way to bring retribution to her former student. Let him grow complacent with his loved ones; she had all the time the Lazarus water allowed her to have her revenge.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

December 26, 2020

Heather Cox Richardson

On December 21, Congress passed the Consolidated Appropriations Act of 2021, a $2.3 trillion bill that pulled together a number of different pieces of legislation, including a $900 billion coronavirus relief bill and a $1.4 trillion appropriations bill (which included 12 separate annual appropriations bills). Today’s news is that Trump is refusing to sign the bill into law.

Here’s what’s at stake: the bill provides $300 a week in federal unemployment benefits on top of state benefits, and without it, expanded unemployment benefits ran out today for millions of Americans. The bill increases the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) food support program by $13 billion, and allocates $25 billion in assistance to help pay past-due rent. It also provides $20 billion to buy more vaccines and about $8 billion distribute them. The bill also calls for a one-time $600 direct payment to individuals.

That’s the coronavirus relief piece of the measure. Another piece is the regular appropriations bill for the 2021 federal fiscal year, which ends on September 30, 2021. This includes military spending, aid to foreign countries, and the money that keeps federal programs afloat. It has $1.4 billion allocated to the wall on our southern border. Congress should have passed this appropriations bill in time for the start of the 2021 fiscal year on October 1, 2020, but it didn’t, so it has kept the government funded through continuing resolutions. The one under which we are currently operating expires at midnight on Monday, December 28.

Here’s the third piece of the measure. More than 3000 of the 5593 pages of this massive bill are additional measures that have nothing to do with the first two. They extend tax breaks from previous laws, amounting to tax cuts of about $200 billion. They include money for flood control and coastal protection. They fund community health centers and historically Black colleges and universities. They reauthorize intelligence programs for 2021. They establish the Women’s History Museum and the National Museum of the American Latino on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. (although it appears they do not allocate money for them, but simply authorize their establishment, as required by law).

The Consolidated Appropriations Act of 2021 passed Congress by large bipartisan majorities. Trump has not called congressional Democratic leaders in more than a year, but Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin was part of the negotiations, and spoke for the White House. Everyone expected that, after Congress had passed the bill, Trump would sign it into law.

But he left for Mar-a-Lago on December 23 without signing it, and is threatening not to. In a surprise video on Tuesday, December 22, he called the legislation “a disgrace.” He complained about the $600 stimulus checks—it was Mnuchin who insisted on that amount—and demanded the amount be raised to $2000. He also complained about “wasteful spending and much more,” although some of the things he called out, including funds for Egypt and the Egyptian military and money for the Kennedy Center, were his own requests. Republicans were stunned by his sudden hostility. Democrats, who had wanted higher stimulus payments all along, promptly tried to pass a stand-alone $2000 payment measure through the House, but were stopped by Republicans.  

Trump’s sudden hostility to a bill that took months to hammer out is disastrous for millions of Americans whose expanded unemployment benefits ran out today and whose state benefits are long gone. It also threatens to force a government shutdown.

So, what’s Trump up to?

A couple of things. First, he is furious with Senate Republicans, especially Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) and Senate Majority Whip (the second most powerful Republican in the Senate, who enforces party discipline) John Thune (R-SD), both of whom have acknowledged that Joe Biden won the 2020 election. Trump continues to insist that he won “by a landslide” and that the election was stolen. He is incensed by any Republican who has not signed on to his crusade, yet as he relies more and more on marginal figures like his lawyers Rudy Giuliani and Sidney Powell and Biden’s victory becomes more and more secure, party leaders are distancing themselves from him. Tonight, he tweeted that it is “[t]ime for Republican Senators to step up and fight for the Presidency….”

Now, though, Republican leadership needs him to sign this bill to help Republican Senate candidates in Georgia. Democrats in the House passed coronavirus relief back in May, but McConnell objected to anything of the sort until after the election, when it became clear that control of the Senate was going to depend on the outcome of a runoff for both Senate seats from Georgia. In that state, the two Republican candidates are having a hard time because voters are disgusted that there has been so little help coming from the Republicans for people hurt by the economic crisis that came in on the heels of the pandemic. If those Senate seats go the Democratic candidates, Jon Ossoff and the Reverend Raphael Warnock, the Senate will be balanced 50-50 between Republicans and Democrats. In the case of such a tie, the position of the Senate Majority Leader goes to the top member of the party of the U.S. President, meaning that a Democrat would replace McConnell.

McConnell assured the Georgia Republican Senate candidates that there would be a coronavirus relief package before Christmas, and they ran on that promise. Now Trump has them over a barrel.

That’s one reason he’s suddenly stalling.

The other is quite likely that he is angry and frustrated at his impending loss of power, and is lashing out to hurt people. It seems of a piece with the fact that he and then-Attorney General William Barr resumed federal executions in July 2019, and that he has sped up the executions of federal prisoners since his November defeat. During his administration, the federal government has executed ten prisoners, more than any president since Grover Cleveland in 1896. This includes executions during the transition to the next administration. Traditionally, presidents stop executions during this period, leaving life-and-death decisions to their successors. One person in conversation with White House officials talked with Jeff Stein of the Washington Post about Trump’s scuttling of the bill and said, “He’s just angry at everybody and wants to inflict as much pain on Congress as possible.”

Trump’s supporters are urging him to “pocket veto” the Consolidated Appropriations Act, taking advantage of a weird option at the end of a congressional session. Normally, a president has ten days, not including Sunday, to review and sign a bill. During a congressional session, if the president doesn’t sign a bill within ten days, it becomes a law. But if the congressional session ends within ten days, the bill does not become a law. This is known as a pocket veto. The 116th Congress—this one—officially ends at noon on January 3. If Trump got the bill on December 24, and all indications are that he did, the ten-day window ends on January 4. So, he could, in fact, run out the clock in such a way that Congress could not override his veto.

For his part, President-Elect Joe Biden is scathing of the machinations that could leave him inheriting an epic disaster. “[M]illions of families don’t know if they’ll be able to make ends meet because of… Trump’s refusal to sign an economic relief bill approved by Congress with an overwhelming and bipartisan majority,” his transition team wrote today. “This abdication of responsibility has devastating consequences.” Biden pointed out that about 10 million Americans will lose their unemployment insurance benefits, paychecks for military personnel will be at risk, a moratorium on evictions expires, small businesses will fail, and distribution of vaccines will falter. “This bill is critical,” he wrote. It needs to be signed into law now. But it is also a first step and down payment on more action that we’ll need to take early in the new year to revive the economy and contain the pandemic….”

Biden noted that “In November, the American people spoke clearly that now is a time for bipartisan action and compromise.” Congress has stepped up to the plate with this appropriations bill, Biden said, and added that “Trump should join them, and make sure millions of American can put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads in this holiday season.”

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[mikami]

Death Note Audio Drama 02

Disk 2: Collateral Damage - a summary / partial translation

Disk 1 and an attempted explanation of What This Is are here.

This episode also isn’t particularly wild as far as plot diversion goes, but it changes a key element of how Death Note manipulation works and.... introduces a whole lot of Matsuda trivia, somehow. We also say hi and bye to Naomi.

___________________

We begin with Naomi tracking down the bus driver of the busjacking. The driver is really annoyed that people keep tracking him down to ask him about it. Naomi asks about Raye. (Her vacation pic is from Honolulu in this version). Naomi presses the driver to tell her as much as he remembers about the other passengers.

_____

TITLE MUSIC PLAYS

_____

We’re back in time. Light is trying to think about how to get Raye Penber’s name. His dad’s computer has no notes about it. Light deduces that his dad doesn’t even know about the tailing. Ryuk brings up the eye deal.

RYUK: I can offer you the eyes of a shinigami.

LIGHT: U-uh, you mean a real pair of eyes? That’s disgusting!!

RYUK (amused): No, I just mean the power of those eyes.

The lifespan halving gets brought up and Light just goes “uhm... no thanks”, literally. 

LIGHT: Are there any more surprises? Some kind of bonus point system? Fine print? 

RYUK: Uuuuuhm, can’t think of anything much right now.

LIGHT: You could have written it into the Death Note, alongside the other rules. I don’t like to be led by the nose, I’m not your goddamn----

RYUK: ... what?

LIGHT: I am not your puppet.... But I can get one for myself.

RYUK: I don’t get it.

LIGHT: I know now, how to get my pursuer’s name. And that’s without making any kind of contract with you.

_______

A TV transmission. An attorney has issued a lawsuit against prisons for the way prisoners die. His client died of heart attack after writing a pentagram in his own blood. He was close to being pardoned. The lawyer says that the government has a duty to ensure safety of the prisoners, no matter what they are in for. 

_______

L and Soichiro discuss the murder and other abnormal murders like it. They have Soichiro be the one to discover the “L did you know” message, oddly. But they don’t really detail how it is coded, so it might have just literally been written down word by word in this version. L tells Soichiro to not tell anyone about this, not even his team. Soichiro immediately says he’ll only keep it in her personal data files.......

_______

RYUK: Are you really sure you should snoop around your dad’s office like this?

LIGHT: If you want a useful way to keep your eyes busy, why don’t you keep watch?

RYUK: I am not your partner. Oh, an apple. [eats]

LIGHT: Luckily, I can do just fine without your help. A-ha! Interpol listed them all!

RYUK: All your extremely dramatic deaths?

LIGHT: More or less. Seems like not all I wrote into the notebook actually happened.

They go over the stipulations of manipulation needing to be physically doable for the victim. 

LIGHT: And now I just need... a catalyst.

_______

News transmission. A news entry about the killer of the Amane parents having died. Channel switch. A Christmas-themed advertisement for Space Land. Channel Switch. A news feature about Kiichiro Osoreda and his failed bank robbing.

______

Light meets Yuri and Yuri’s dialogue is kept pretty accurate to the manga, which is something that I found really disappointing actually. Light’s and Ryuk’s dialogue here is also very close to the original. 

Raye Penber complains that he’d like to do real policework at some point again, otherwise he acts the same as in the manga here.

The whole busjacking is just really manga-close. But when Raye says he’s police undercover...

LIGHT: Oh, really? And how do I know you’re not in cahoots with this madman?

PENBER: And who are you? A detective?

YURI: His dad is a detective, that’s why he’s so smart.

LIGHT: Do you have ID? Otherwise I’ll have to deal with you first. 

PENBER: Of course! Here.

LIGHT: Raye Penber... FBI? What is the FBI doing on a bus to Space Land?

PENBER: This isn’t really the time for that, boy.

LIGHT: Alright, cowboy, then toss your lasso already. 

I cannot overstate that he literally says this. Word by word. After that, the scene returns to its canon version. The bizarre thing is that Ryuk explains the plan out loud, including telling Light’s name to Otoharada. Of course, Otoharada is brainwashed and acting according to script, but still weird.

_______

News transmission. The busjacking gets described. Light turns the news off and shows the Death Note entry to Ryuk, who reads it out loud. 

______

We hear a New Year’s countdown. 

WATARI: What in Hercules’ name was that?

INTERPOL REP (still clinking champagne glasses): It’s the time difference, Mr. Watari! It’s midnight, here in the USA. 

WATARI: Oh... I am so very sorry. I must have lost my overview. 

INTERPOL REP: Forget about it. Just a moment.

She leaves the party room. She informs Watari of the deceased FBI agents. It happened three days ago, but she only got the report now, thanks to the holiday crunch. She now refuses to involve the FBI further. 

______

Soichiro calls L. He’s pissed about L involving the FBI, now that he’s heard. 

______

Back with Watari and the Interpol Rep (her name is Paula Virilio and she’ll be referred to as Virilio in the future) are still talking about the matter. She tells Watari that on Dec 28th all the agents asked about names and photos of their coworkers, so she gave the first four the file and asked them to pass it further.

______

Soichiro is really mad about Virilio’s miss-step too. L and Soichiro work out that they need to know who sent the first email about the files. The phone call ends.

The Task Force is really mad about L still not taking the same risks as them. They actually seriously consider L being Kira for a moment. 

______

The Task Force enter the hotel L is staying in. Pardon me for sometimes just saying ‘someone’ as the speaker, I find the Task Force really hard to tell about and without context cues I am often lost.

MATSUDA: A whole hotel suite? How do you earn the money for this stuff?

L: By being smarter than everyone else, Detective Matsuda.

MATSUDA: You are... [He corrects himself from the formal ‘you’ used to address adults to informal ‘you’ here] You are L....?

L: The one. Please sit down, gentlemen.

MATSUDA: He’s still a child...

L (laughs): I am old enough to vote, Mr. Matsuda. Old enough to carry a weapon, to marry, to fall in love... and to catch a murderer.  And you are Chief Inspector Yagami. I also know you from TV.

SOICHIRO: Yes, here’s my ID, for protocol. This is Matsuda, as you know. Detectives Aizawa, Ukita, Mogi...

L: A group of dead men. 

SOICHIRO: Excuse me, what?

L: If I really was Kira, you’d all be dead now. 

MATSUDA: How can we know that, boy?

L: Because you are not dead, detective. 

MATSUDA: We call that kind of thing circular logic.

L: I call someone like you an idiot. 

MATSUDA: I don’t need to listen to this from a civilian, you little shitty---

SOICHIRO (softly): Matsuda. 

L: You name is Touta Matsuda. Graduated from Kumamoto University. Passion for sports cars and every Thursday, you go to the cinema. Big drama. Not in a relationship right now, but in pining hope for something complicated with Noriko Takai. Hm. A very concerning sympathy for both [???? I DONT KNOW THE WORD] as well as country music. Loves Korean cuisine, but....

SOMEONE: He’s got your number, Matsuda.  

MATSUDA: So what? You all can easily figure out the same from social media.

L: Yeah, that’s what I can do. Everything. About you, and your sister, and your stupid aunt who doesn’t know how to properly set the privacy settings of her account. I know where you live, you tool--

SOICHIRO: I think we got it, L. 

L: Really? Kira plays this game to win. I agreed to meet you, because you were all getting nervous about working with an anonymous specialist, so I am here. To get my hands as dirty as yours. But really, is this necessary...?

SOICHIRO: What do you want, L?

L: I want you to take this seriously.

SOMEONE: In the face of 12 dead agents, matters are serious enough, I think.

L: Correct, so you take care to not become number 13. All of you have to disappear. Get off social media, get new email accounts. If you address the public or the press, you will introduce yourself with these names. You are not going to tell anyone your real names. That’s exactly why I am still alive.

And this is how we get the fake IDs.

_____

Naomi at the NPA. The receptionist refuses to let her speak to anybody from the Task Force. Light steps in, to hand in the spare clothes for his dad. His dialogue with Naomi is similar to the manga, but audio drama Light’s insistence and volunteering of excessively much info he shouldn’t have.... it makes me laugh.

LIGHT: And you are looking for my father?

NAOMI: Uh, yeah, I--

LIGHT: I can tell you’re up to speed, miss. You’re definitely correct to not just tell your matter to the next best person. Especially after those FBI murders. We’re all suspects, am I right?

NAOMI: U-uh, I didn’t say that---

LIGHT: If you’d like, I’d gladly get you in contact with my father. I’ll get through to him, even if he usually rejects calls.

RYUK: Take the bait, missy, take it...

NAOMI: Would that be alright, u-uh, Light?

RYUK: Aaand, bullseye!

LIGHT: Why don’t we take this conversation somewhere else?

RYUK: There’s just too many video cams here.

LIGHT: As long as we don’t know how Kira kills his victims, I’d suggest a less public place. 

_______

LIGHT: Okay, where were we? My name is Yagami. Light Yagami.

NAOMI: Shouko Maki.

RYUK: And my name is Ryuk, but you’re not actually able to see or hear me.

LIGHT: I think Kira is capable of more than simply killing people. It seems as if he could influence their actions before their deaths.

NAOMI: I think the same. And here I thought I was alone with it. Yes, he can control people before he kills them. But that’s not all. He can also kill them through other means than heart attacks.

RYUK: Who is this little snooper?

LIGHT: Should that be the case, we might be facing even more murders than thought. There are cases that haven’t been considered in connection to Kira yet.

NAOMI: Exactly. Those might be cases Kira hoped would stay secret. I am fairly sure that someone... someone I know... has met Kira.

LIGHT: Hah. It might be hard to get someone to believe this statement.

NAOMI: That’s why I came in person to explain the circumstances of the case.

LIGHT: Wouldn’t it be even more convincing if your friend told his own story?

NAOMI: He can’t. He was one of the murdered agents. 

RYUK: Oh, now it’s getting interesting.

NAOMI: He was my fiancé. He told me that he got involved in this busjacking. By now, I assume that Kira was on that bus as well.

RYUK: She’s talking about Raye Penber, wow. 

NAOMI: Something wrong?

LIGHT: Why are you assuming that Kira was on the bus?

NAOMI: Name and face of the culprit were on the media day by day. He was on the run after a totally miscalculated bank robbing. And then, 8 days later, shortly after Christmas... My fiancé dies. Together with his 11 colleagues.

LIGHT: The connection seems vague to me.

RYUK: What he wants to say is.... perfect match.

NAOMI: Something must have happened there. I think that my fiancé and the culprit were used by Kira to get to the other 11 agents. 

LIGHT: The culprit was hit by a car, it wasn’t a heart attack. This is how you got to the conclusion that Kira can control actions?

NAOMI: Yes. 

LIGHT: That seems pretty far fetched. 

RYUK: It really isn’t, lady.

NAOMI: Even the first time I heard of the busjacking, the circumstances seemed strange to me. I kept asking my fiancé questions, I basically interrogated him to tell me the story again and again. 

LIGHT: And... what was his story?

______

We flash back to Naomi and Raye talking. Both of their voices are tense.

RAYE: Yes, I showed my ID to one of the passengers, okay?! Are you happy now?

NAOMI: You shouldn’t have done that!

RAYE: I know that! It was complicated. The guy wouldn’t have cooperated without me proving that I’m a cop.

NAOMI: You were undercover, Raye! 

RAYE: Stop that! You weren’t there. 

NAOMI: You had explicit order to not blow your cover.

RAYE: And you are the only person who knows I have done that. If you don’t tell anybody, nobody will ever know. 

NAOMI: But I am not the only one. Isn’t that right? We still don’t know how Kira finds and executes his victims. You can’t afford even a single misstep.

RAYE: You’d probably prefer he’d shot all the passengers then.

NAOMI: Ugh, Raye, that’s not the point---

RAYE (hitting the table): Of course that is exactly the point!! 

______

LIGHT: This whole situation isn’t free of emotions. 

NAOMI: So?

LIGHT: I just want to make sure your feelings aren’t influencing your analysis skills.

RYUK: Which are working quite excellently.

NAOMI: Hey, you. I was a special agent with several decorations before I gave up my career to marry Raye. I’m not just some random brat.

LIGHT: I agree with you, the suspicion warrants a closer inspection. 

They keep talking, Light himself brings out the deduction that the person Raye identified himself to was Kira.

______

We’re with Ukita on phone duty. Someone who thinks they are Kira is calling. Ukita is already pretty annoyed, even before the guy talks of other hallucinations. He hangs up quickly.

_______

SOICHIRO: is it important?

MATSUDA: No, boss. Ukita is just whining again. He doesn’t want to be on phone duty anymore. He texted: “When do I get a hotel suite with 24/7 room service?”

SOMEONE: Does he think we’re just chilling here?

SOMEONE: Probably. Uhm, do you want the final shrimp?

SOMEONE: Take it.

They then move on to talk about surveillance footage of the FBI agent deaths. They have footage from 3 deaths, one of them is Raye Penber. They have the most material on him. They realize he’s done more than a full round on the Yamanote line. They also notice him having an envelope that disappears. They conclude Kira was on the train, receiving it.

______

Light makes his first attempt to kill Naomi, same cause of death as in the manga. Naomi wants to go back to the NPA building now. Light comes with her, as he notices she isn’t dying. 

_____

Ukita on the phone again. Akiko Misora is calling about her daughter Naomi being misses. Ukita is pretty annoyed (”Oh really? Was she kidnapped by aliens or something?”). Akiko explains that Naomi came to Japan with her fiancé,  but he died and shortly after Naomi also fell out of contact. Akiko complains about how much paperwork getting the ashes to the US was, and says how charming Raye was and how good his Japanese was...... Ukita wants to get rid of her, until Akiko tells him Raye’s name.

____

The Task Force discusses Naomi’s existence and disappearance. She left her hotel at Dec. 29th and has been missing since. They all suspect that Naomi, being an ex-agent, has started her own investigation. But they also worry someone found her.

_____

Light explains to Naomi that the Kira team doesn’t meet with people on principle, because of the risk. He calls them ‘us’ and Naomi picks up on it, leading Light to explain he is a member of the task force. (Ryuk: “And if you believed that one, you might as well buy a fake Rolex of him now.”) Light invites Naomi to the team, like in the manga. Naomi does a lot of nervous laughing in this scene, but she does give him her real ID.

______

The task force think about Naomi, and her existence in connection to Raye being the first one to send an email to Virilio. They decide to place cameras and bugs in the houses of those who were investigated by Raye. It’s the families of Kitamura and Yagami. 

______

Light writes Naomi’s name down again, this time her real one. They walk together some more. Light points out that Naomi doesn’t just want to investigate but also to hear the full story about Raye’s death. 

NAOMI: I already knew on the day of that something was wrong. Raye was acting really strangely. He got up and left, without a word. He even forgot his cellphone. 

LIGHT: Oh, is that unusual?

NAOMI: I followed him downstairs. He was at the reception and made them print something for him. I gave his phone to him, but he said nothing at all. He was so.. empty.

LIGHT: Distracted?

NAOMI: ... empty. Not a smile, not a kiss. He took the phone and left. At the time I still thought ‘well, maybe an order’. Next thing you know, the police arrives at the hotel. Asked me to come with them... identify the body. I have no idea what happened in the final hours of his life. 

LIGHT: I do. I know the details of Raye Penber’s death down to the very last second. 

NAOMI: I haven’t even told you his full name yet...

LIGHT: He entered the station via the west entrance. Past the street musician who always plays there. He passed the ticket entrance at 11 past 3. He went down to the Yamanote line, in the direction of Kanda. 

NAOMI: I don’t understand... That’s only too stations if you directly take the Chuo line. Why this giant detour?

LIGHT: Because someone was waiting for him. The Yamanote line is the perfect place for a meeting. It has stops everywhere and nowhere. 

_____

We launch into a flashback to the Yamanote line. Light walks up to Raye and greets him, but Raye does not answer him. Light introduces himself at more depth, even using his full name and calling himself Kira right after. Raye continues to not answer. Ryuk realizes that Raye cannot answer because that is how Light has written it down. Light keeps chatting, explaining his plan to Raye. On the train, he makes Raye watch as he writes the names of all his colleagues. He also touches Raye with the notebook, to let him see Ryuk. Raye can’t do anything.

____

LIGHT: Well, Naomi, I’m afraid Raye was just sitting there. His eyes widened a little. Panicked, you know?

RYUK: Yes, panic just about cuts it. Just like the face you are making right now, darling.

LIGHT: But he couldn’t move. Just like you right now. I was quite precise with my orders, you see? 

Light continues to explain that he needed the names of the other agents and that he can do anything to people whose names he has. 

_____

The task force discusses the family surveillance further. Light says the chance of Kira being among those people is 5%, but this is their only lead. Soichiro tells L to be thorough with his surveillance, like in the manga.

_____

LIGHT: All Raye could do was sit there until the time was ripe. And then get up...

RYUK: Without a word, Naomi. Silent like a fish.

LIGHT: And he left the train at Kanda station. 

RYUK: And then he died. 

LIGHT: Right on the platform, so to say. 

RYUK: He extended his hand like in a bad movie. As if he wanted to say ‘I am cursing you’ or something.

LIGHT: And thus, Raye Penber died. I find it regrettable. 

RYUK: Because he wasn’t a murderer. Which you also aren’t, Naomi. Just wrong place, wrong time... Collateral damage.

LIGHT: But I think you understand, Naomi, that I can’t leave you alive, if I want to keep working. I know you want to move, to hit me. I know that you wish above all else to take the gun out of your pocket. But none of that will happen, because I already put your final moments into motion. And that means I’m the one who’s in power here. 

Ryuk asks what she’ll do. Light explains that he wrote the same conditions as on the first try, about her suicide.

LIGHT: So Naomi, I think you know what to do. Now go. 

RYUK: And there she went. A woman with a mission. 

LIGHT: Hey, Naomi! Want me to call my dad? Still want to talk to him, tell him everything you learned today? Hm? .... and she just keeps walking. 

RYUK: She didn’t even say goodbye. I hope it was worth it. This new direction you’ve taken, it’s going to change everything. 

LIGHT: What new direction?

RYUK: Now you’re no longer simply a criminal. You’re a police killer.

[santoteez]

In The Bronx- Hongjoong (6)

Part: 6 of 7

Genre: Drugdealer!Hongjoong, Drugdealer! SeonghwaAU, Eventual Fluff

Word Count:  2.5k

Requested: no

Warnings: MC is a black female, swearing, Hongjoong’s brother is inspired by Mingi, mentions of abuse and police corruption

NOTE: This fic does NOT, in any way, shape, or form, portray the way I view any member of Ateez nor does it depict their true personalities or actions. This AU is just that. An AU.

Santana stared at the window, watching the snowfall onto the streets. It had now been 3 months since Hongjoong was taken into custody, but she remembered that day like it was yesterday.

*flashback*

The address Seonghwa had sent was to the new warehouse. The location was noticeably smaller, but the crew resumed their work as if nothing happened. As they suspected, the old place was raided. A raid in which nothing was found, damaging the Coca Twins’ credibility. They tried multiple times to convince the police of Seonghwa’s involvement, but with their lack of home security cameras and the solidity of Seonghwa’s alibi, it was impossible to incriminate him. They were several people (all of who were friends of Hongjoong’s) vouched for him being at his “job” at Panera. There was even video footage. Of course, the video was several months old, but the police didn’t need to know that.

Santana and Minjoon were escorted to the back office upon arrival. Seonghwa locked the door when they walked in, gesturing for them to sit. This office was much more put together, with brand new furniture and white carpet.

“How’s he looking?” Seonghwa sat down behind the desk.

“He hasn’t slept, that’s for sure,” Minjoon said. “I feel like shit. Has he always been that tired and I just never saw it? So many times he could’ve gotten killed while I was sleeping.” He ran his hand through his hair.

“Don’t think like that. That’s the last thing HJ would want. It’s the reason he never told you. He wanted you to have the childhood he didn’t.” Seonghwa said, shutting down Minjoon’s worries immediately. “Anyway, I called you over here because I found out-”

He was interrupted by Santana’s phone ringing. “Someone’s calling me private.”

Seonghwa stood up. “Answer it. It might be him.”

Santana answered. “Hello?”

“You have an incoming call from an inmate at Sing Sing Correctional Facility. The inmate calling is *Kim Hongjoong*. To accept the charges and connect the call, press 5.”

“It’s him. It’s him!” Santana shouted, dialing in the number. The phone went silent for just a second until she heard Hongjoong’s voice.

“Baby, I miss you.”

“HJ, I miss you too.” She sighed in relief.

“Listen, is Minjoon there?”

“Yeah, he’s here. So is Dragon.”

“Yeah? Put me on speaker.”

“Okay.” She removed the phone from her ear and put it on speaker, the hustle and bustle of the prison filling the silent room.

“Minjoon. Dragon.”

Seonghwa walked over to the other side of the table. “We’re here.”

“I need y’all to listen to me. Bianchi is crooked, man. The public defender, too. I spoke to her earlier, and she said she wanted me to confess to the Paredes case for a reduced sentence.” His voice was muffled from speaking directly into the receiver.

“Is he nearby? Is that why you’re whispering?” Seonghwa asked.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong said, much clearer now.

“Don’t say anything else. Luckily, that’s why I called Santana over. I’m already ten steps ahead of you.”

“Minjoon, you listening?”

“Yeah, what’s up?

“Keep going to school. Remember you wondered why I forced you to get your license but never let you take the car? This is why. Drive yourself, and drive Santana to work. If there’s a party, I’m not telling you to not go because that will raise suspicion BUT make sure Santana and Seonghwa know where you are. For fuck's sake, buy a portable charger because I know your phone dies every other second. And wash your damn clothes! Coming here to see me in a shirt I saw you in two days ago. I don’t spend money at the mall for you to walk around musty.”

Minjoon rolled his eyes. “This is also not the time to talk about this, but alright.”

“You should get going, HJ. You’ve been on the phone for a while. I’m sure you’re almost up. I’m gonna head up that way to see you in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Alright, bro. I’ll see you then. Santana, take the phone off speaker. Lemme talk to you real quick.”

Santana placed the phone to her ear. “Yeah?”

“You know I love you, right?”

“And I love you.”

“I don’t have much time, but I had to tell you that. I know you never wanted to be with a jailbird, but I need you to hold me down while I’m in here. Even if you wake up one day and think I’m gross and disgusting, please don’t leave Minjoon alone. I know he’s over there saying he’s grown and shit, but he’s just a kid and I don’t want him doing this alone. Please, tana.”

“I wouldn’t leave either of you. No matter how long it takes, I’m gonna be right here.”

“Let’s go, inmate. Time’s up.”

“I’ll come see you as much as I can! I love you.” Santana shouted.

“I love you, too,” Hongjoong said before the call cut off.

*end*

Three months later, she kept her word. Every day, she was dropped off to work by Minjoon, who picked her up after doing homework or before heading to a party. She’d attend his games and ignore the ridiculous claims that she was his girlfriend. Although she didn’t need it, Seonghwa provided them with money and the occasional grocery shopping. Santana and Minjoon visited Hongjoong as much as they could and waited for his call every night. Minjoon got a weekend job at the local diner, cursing himself for not thinking of getting a job before.

Seonghwa continued to run the warehouse, as well as collect evidence on Bianchi and Sarah. Turns out, the pair had been terrorizing not only the neighborhood of Soundview but the entire borough of The Bronx. Everyone Seonghwa spoke to knew at least three people who were fucked over by them, and each of those three people know more people. Upon his findings, Hongjoong refused to work any further with Sarah and requested to hire his own lawyer for the trial. Seonghwa found the best lawyer in New York City who, after carefully reviewing his evidence, decided to request a mistrial due to police corruption.

“Are you ready?” Santana asked Seonghwa. The day of the trial had finally arrived, and they were about to head into the courtroom to hear Hongjoong’s fate.

“I should be asking you. You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.” Seonghwa laughed. “He’s gonna be fine. We’ve got a solid case. C’mon. Minjoon, we’re going in.”

As the trio was about to enter, they locked eyes with the Coca Twins. Daedae and Nunu turned their heads quickly as their eyes averted Santana’s worried gaze and Seonghwa’s icy glare.

Once they were all in the courtroom, the bailiff addressed them.

“Please rise, the honorable Judge Johnson is now presiding.” A short, black woman entered the room. “You may be seated.” He said once she was seated.

“Case #157, Claremont vs. Kim. The charge is attempted murder.” The bailiff handed Judge Johnson the case folder.

“Mr. Kim, how do you plead?”

Hongjoong’s lawyer spoke up. “Not guilty, Your Honor. As a matter of fact, the defense requests a mistrial due to police corruption and tampering with evidence.”  

Gasps and murmurs were heard throughout the courtroom and the Coca Twins looked at each other in despair.

“On what basis do you support these claims, Attorney?”

“The defense team and I have conducted a private investigation along with Mr. Kim’s longtime friend, Park Seonghwa, which was approved by the lieutenant and commander. Over the course of three months, there has been evidence collected which proves that the arresting officer, Carlo Bianchi, has been wrongfully incriminating the people of The Bronx alongside his partner, Anthony Manganiello, as well as District Attorney Sarah Fawcett. May I present to the court Exhibit A.” A surveillance tape was pulled up on a TV. “Here, at 10:40, we have my client, Kim Hongjoong, exiting the Claremont residence. Note his calm demeanor and lack of a weapon. This behavior is not common of an individual who’s just failed to kill the persons they intended to. Here at 10:50, we see Officer Bianchi arrive at the scene. Not only is he out of uniform, after reviewing the schedule with the lieutenant, it has been confirmed that Bianchi was also off the clock. We see him walking through the same gate my client just walked out of, touching it without gloves and therefore tampering with what is supposed a crime scene. So, if Officer Bianchi responded to a call as severe as attempted murder without his partner, off-duty AND without securing the crime scene, who could’ve possibly dispatched this call? Easy. No one. See, the police were never called and an official report was never made. In the eyes of the law, there’s no possible way Bianchi could’ve known of the crime or gotten there so quickly.”

Santana's mouth fell agape in disbelief. This was far more than she had suspected. There was evidence even Seonghwa had failed to tell her.

“Exhibit B. The injuries inflicted on the Claremonts. Here we see the shoulders of Timothy and the hands and wrists of Clarence. All badly bruised and tattered. There’s only one problem. Here are the hands and arms of my client.” She pulled up another picture. “This photo is an enhancement of his mugshot. His hands have not one sign of strenuous activity, much less indication he beat anyone up. These pictures were taken less than 24 hours apart. According to the medical examiner, in order for those injuries to have been made by Kim Hongjoong, there would have to be some type of defense wounds on him as well. Do you know who did have signs of a fight visible to the eye? Officer Bianchi. The same man who arrived at the Claremont residence almost instantly after my client, as well as the man who falsified a police report for a crime that did not take place. They entered my client’s house without a warrant and slammed him into the ground in front of his girlfriend of almost two years, possibly scarring her from such a traumatic event. May I also mention, Your honor, that this isn’t a first offense. In our investigation, we have discovered dozens of citizens who were victims at the hands of Officer Bianchi and DA Fawcett. Here are our findings.” The lawyer handed Judge Johnson a folder.

At this point, the Coca twins are sweating through their suits. Sarah’s face was beet-red, and the court was at the end of their seats, as was the jury.

“My final, and possibly most incriminating piece of evidence. This is video footage from DA Fawcett’s first meeting with my client before he blatantly refused to meet with her and requested a switch.”

The lawyer played the tape and the jury watched in disgust as Fawcett’s spiel about Hongjoong as well as the people of the Bronx was exposed for all to hear.

“Note how DA Fawcett makes her stereotypical belief of Bronx citizens clear to Mr. Kim. A true defender of justice shouldn’t see race, background, or education as a factor when trying to portray the truth. As Mr. Kim stated in the clip, he was nowhere near the crime scene, as building management provided us with surveillance that shows Mr. Kim entering his apartment at 8:30am, exiting at 2:50, and returning with his younger brother at 4:00pm. May the jury keep in mind he is his brother’s legal guardian and only known blood relative. Since Mr. Kim’s arrest, Kim Minjoon has had no other choice but to step up immensely and, with the help of his sister-in-law Santana, find a job to help support himself, since my client was his only source of income and the sole breadwinner of the house. This entire ordeal has caused the Kims are great amount of pain, and all for naught. It is, for this reason, we request a mistrial and demand that Kim Hongjoong be released to his loved ones immediately.”

The judge took a moment before saying, “I will appoint a recess in the time I take to review the evidence given to me. Jury, your verdict will not be needed. I thank you for your time and you will be compensated. I will call you all back when I have made my decision.”

The recess lasted almost an hour, in which Santana and Minjoon went to grab a bite to eat. They brought back a sandwich for Seonghwa, despite him insisting that he wasn’t hungry.

“You may all re-enter; the judge has made her decision.” The bailiff called.

“Let’s pray this was enough,” Santana said, rubbing her hands nervously.

Seonghwa placed his hand on her shoulder. “It’s enough.”

They once again sat behind Hongjoong and his attorney as the judge addressed the court.

“Before I make my decision known, I would like to address DA Fawcett. Sarah, I am utterly disappointed in you. The great people of the Bronx have time and time again been prejudiced against. Discriminated against. Been robbed of opportunity. And called liars and thieves and burdens. And this instance is no different. May I remind you, you’re in the courtroom of an impeccable Bronx citizen. You wanna charge me of a crime too? It is for this that you, as well as Officers Manganiello and Bianchi,  be placed on UNPAID administrative while this evidence, as well as the list of witnesses, are further investigated. As for Mr. Kim, given the evidence delivered today in this court, I hereby declare this case a mistrial and order that he be released from custody effective immediately. Mr. Kim, on behalf of the judicial system, and from one Bronxite to another, I sincerely apologize. You are a good man, and from what I can tell, you’re an amazing boyfriend and you’ve raised your brother to be a well-mannered, poised young man. I wish you nothing but the best. Court adjourned.” She slammed her gavel, getting up from her chair.

The court erupted into cheers, Santana tearing up almost immediately. Three long, hard months. It all came to a close in a matter of hours. Hongjoong turned around and motioned with his cuffed hands for her to lean forward. When she did, he trapped her lips into a tight liplock, eliciting oohs and aahs from the onlookers.

“I’ve wanted to do that every time I saw you for the past three months.” Hongjoong looked deeply into her eyes.

The guard came over with a smile and uncuffed him. “Good going, kid. Remember our talk?”

Hongjoong nodded, smiling and rubbing his wrists. “Absolutely. Thank you, sir.”

He shrugged. “Just looking out for someone that reminds me a lot of myself.”

The courtroom had long emptied out, and the trio waited for Hongjoong to emerge from the courthouse, sans the jumpsuit. When he walked down the steps in a black coat, jeans, and sneakers, Minjoon broke into a sprint.

“There he is! I wore clean clothes today, just for you.” He said, gesturing to his suit.

“As you always should. That’s how I raised you. “Hongjoong said, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, lil bro. For everything.”

Minjoon shook his head. “You did it all for me. I understand now. Now, I’m gonna go to college, be somebody, and I’ll pay it all back. But for right now, let’s go home.”

Hongjoong laughed. “Couldn’t” have said it better myself.”

*STAY TUNED FOR THE LAST CHAPTER!!*

[lovemesomerafael]

El Amor Todo Lo Puede        Epilogue

Chapters 1-55  Chapter 56  Chapter 57

“Oh, Peter, this is a terrible idea.  I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“Little late, Sunshine.”

“We’re too old for this!  What if-“

“We’re gonna be great.  It’s gonna be the best thing we ever did.”

“I don’t – oooooh, here we go.”

Forearms together as though they were about to arm wrestle, they clasped hands and Laura focused on Peter’s eyes as he helped her breathe through the contraction.  It was a big one.

“OK,” the nurse said.  “It’s time for me to go get the doctor.  We’re about to have a baby.” 

They named their daughter Rachael.  That spelling had been Peter’s idea.  A wildly generous gift to Laura, so typical of him.  She’d tried to talk him out of it at first, thinking he would regret it later, but he had asked her two questions.  First, whether she liked the name.  She loved it.  Second, whether she wanted to honor Rafael by naming their daughter after him.  When she said yes, he had declared the subject closed.

“But why would you do something like that?”

“Because he was a good man, and he loved you as much as I do.”

It was nowhere near the first or the last time Peter made Laura cry with happiness.

*******

Laura had always looked forward to watching Peter with their baby. But nothing could have prepared her for the staggering rush of love she felt seeing him with Rachael in his arms. He simply melted with adoration when he looked at her which, in turn, made Laura melt with adoration for him. Sometimes Laura would hear Peter having a conversation with Rachael, Peter talking and Rachael making excited baby squeals, and just listen, tears in her eyes, awash in a tenderness of emotion she had never known existed.  Sometimes Peter would just talk in a sweet, silly voice about how pretty Rachael was and how much he loved her.  Sometimes he would hold her while he was working, and have serious discussions with her about cases, asking her opinion about his chances on a particular motion. Other times, he would watch baseball games with her and explain the rules to her, or why a particular call by the umpire was outrageously wrong.  Rachel didn’t care what the topic was, she just loved to be in Daddy’s arms while he talked to her.  

When Rachael began to walk and talk, he was so patient, so interested in what she was telling him, so engaged in whatever they were doing together, that Laura felt blessed to have this man as her daughter’s father.

************

Laura came upon Peter one day in his home office, staring thoughtfully at a picture taken the past Christmas, framed and prominently placed on his desk. In the picture, Peter and Laura were seated in front of the fire in their living room, with three-year-old Rachael on Peter’s lap.

Laura took her favorite place to stand when Peter was working: behind his chair, arms around his neck and chin resting on his shoulder.  He picked up the portrait so that they could both look closely at it.

“What are you thinking?”  Laura asked.

“Do you ever look at this and think that it’s…”  His voice trailed off.

“Not all of us?”  She quietly suggested.

Peter turned to face her and pull her into his lap, his face lit with a joyful smile.  “Exactly.”

Henry Finn was born a year later. 

To Laura’s eternal delight, both of her children looked exactly like their father. 

*********

The people at the State’s Attorney’s office eventually got used to the “new” Peter Stone, who came to the office early and, without exception, left before dinnertime.  He might work late in his home office, but he was home in the evenings, where he most wanted to be.  He wanted to spend every possible second with his wife.  And when his children were born, he wanted to spend every possible second with them.

Peter was so jealous of his home life that, even when he needed to work late with his colleagues, they had to come to him.  As Bureau Chief, he was entitled to a few eccentricities. Besides which, although he was a softer, sweeter version of himself, he was still Peter Stone.  That meant he was stern, authoritative, and demanding.  He was determined to balance his love of his work and his love of his family, even if sometimes the two sides of him came together a little awkwardly.  Once, when Rachael had colic, a terrified junior A.S.A. preparing for her first trial had spent an evening in Peter’s home office, anxiously practicing her opening statement while Peter scowled and took notes, all the while bouncing his baby girl in one arm.  

He didn’t often try cases anymore and, on the rare occasions that he did, late work happened at the Stones’ house.  There were stories about war room sessions in the Stones’ dining room, with coffee cups and take-out containers all over, files, papers, photographs, and exhibits scattered on every surface and piled on the floor, and baby Henry crawling happily around under the table, chewing on legal pads.  

*********

 Sometimes it was hard for Laura to stand how much she loved these children she and Peter had made.  The things they said sometimes made tears run down her face because she was laughing so hard, and sometimes just because they were so sweet.  

Once, when Henry and a friend were playing with the toys that were usually spread all over the floor in the family room, they had apparently forgotten that Laura was behind them, working in the kitchen.  

Henry’s friend had continued banging two fire trucks into each other while he said, with great seriousness, “Did you know that Moms have other names?”

Laura had stifled her laugh.

“’Course I knew that, I’m not a little kid,” Henry responded with the sweet pomposity of small children.  Laura swallowed another chuckle.

“My mom’s other name is Patricia,” Henry’s friend told him.

“My mom’s other name is Sunshine.” 

That time, Laura laughed out loud.

***********

Rachael and Henry had Peter wrapped around their little fingers from day one.  Laura ended up being the disciplinarian.  Although Peter taught their children his strict moral code, he was always willing to rationalize, to make exceptions and compromises, in order to avoid having to hold the kids to the consequences of their actions.  He simply couldn’t stand seeing them unhappy or, worse, mad at him.  With rare exceptions, it was Laura who had to hold the line.  Which Laura’s parents found wildly ironic.

*************

Of the two, Rachael was the athlete.  She ran, she jumped, she climbed things, and she loved any sport.  Peter was enthralled and practiced with her any time she asked, no matter the sport. Laura had initially wondered if, having played baseball at such an elite level, he would have unrealistic expectations or be a harsh critic.  The opposite turned out to be true.  Peter was entirely supportive, full of encouragement whenever Rachael’s team lost a game, always ready to cheer her on.  If he was harsh, it was only with himself.  Whenever she was on a team and had an event, Peter was there.  Even when it was wildly inconvenient, even if Rachael really didn’t care if he missed it, he was there.  He was not willing to have her look into the stands for him and not see him there. Ever.

She looked amazingly like Peter, and shared his interest in sports, but Rachael’s personality was pure Laura.  She drove her mother crazy sometimes.  Laura would find herself just about to agree to something completely ridiculous, then realize that her daughter had conned her again.  Rachael was also a smartass.  From the time she could talk, Rachael had a snarky comment for every occasion.  She was never cruel, but she had a wicked wit that she very much enjoyed using on everyone except Peter.  Rachael thought Peter hung the moon.  She was all sweetness and adoration with him, which Laura loved, but everyone else got the brunt of Rachael’s cleverness.

Henry was a geek.  He loved anything electronic, and anything having to do with role playing or science fiction.  He liked exercise, but sports left him cold.  The only team events Henry participated in were debates.  Peter was in the audience for every one of those, too.  Like his father, Henry was eloquent and logical, a natural public speaker, and unbeatable in an argument. 

Which again was a bit of a problem for Laura.  When he was around fourteen, Laura finally gave up trying to win arguments with Henry.  After a particularly tense discussion about Henry’s curfew, she told him that he was entitled to know her reasons for decisions, but that she would get to have the final word until he graduated from being the son and became the mother.  Henry bristled at that, but couldn’t come up with a response in the moment.  

What Laura didn’t know was that Peter had come in later and told Henry, man to man, that Laura was the law in their house, even to Peter.  That, Henry could live with.  Peter also suggested that it was in Henry’s best interest to obey because he really, really didn’t want to be on his mother’s shit list.  Laura didn’t lose her temper often, but they both knew that if she called you Sparky, you better watch it.

*************

Rachael and Henry grew up with their parents’ date nights.  They happened a lot.  Regular ‘date nights’ meant a babysitter while Mom and Dad went out to do something alone together.  “Big date nights” meant they were going to some fancy event in the city and Grandma and Grandpa were coming to stay the night.  But somewhere around puberty, Rachael realized to her teenage horror that over the past year or so, her parents had developed a third kind of date night.   That was a regular night when Mom and Dad were supposed to come home, but called and said they had to “work late.”  Bullshit.  Mom’s job didn’t involve working late, and when Dad worked late, he did it at home.  Plus, on these occasions, both of them had to “work late” on the same night.  No way. 

On those nights, Grandma or Grandpa, or occasionally Uncle Steve or Uncle Dan, would come stay with them, and Rachael would just try not to think about it.  She really hoped that her little brother didn’t realize what disgusting shenanigans their parents were up to in some hotel somewhere.  Henry was too young to have to deal with such grossness and, honestly, their parents were just way too old to be acting like that. 

Sure, they hugged and made out a lot, and that was gnarly enough.  And they held hands and said all this mushy shit to eachother, which was maybe a little bit nice, but mostly just embarrassing.  But actual sex?  That’s where Rachael drew the line.

*********

Perhaps Peter’s biggest parenting challenge occurred when Rachael, at seventeen, was caught by the police, in flagrante delicto with a boy in a car.  Peter was livid.  Laura sent Rachael to her room and closed the door to Peter’s office while he paced around, gesticulating wildly and shouting.

“In a car?  How dare he disrespect her like that!”

Laura actually laughed.

“You think this is funny?  You’re OK with our daughter acting like…  like…”

“Like her mother?”

Peter sputtered as he tried to formulate a reply.

“And if that kid was disrespecting Rachael, what exactly were you doing to me all the times we’ve had sex in cars?  Because if you recall, the last time wasn’t that long ago.” 

“That’s different!  We’re married!”

“OK, that works for the last time.  How about the parking lot of Sargent Hall?  Miller park when we were staying with my parents?  The rest stop when we moved to New York?  I could go on.  And those are only the times when we actually had sex.  What about the times when I gave you-“

“OK, OK, you’ve made your point.”

“Actually, I haven’t.  My point is that you’re not bothered by the car part.  You’re bothered by the sex-with-your-daughter part.  And that, my love, you’re just going to have to deal with.”

“Did you know she was having sex?”

“Of course I knew she was having sex.  I’m her mom, it’s my job.  And I made sure she knows how to take care of herself.  She has enough condoms to last until 2092.  You don’t want to know what I taught her to do if a guy doesn’t understand ‘no means no’ and ‘consent can be revoked at any time’.” 

Peter sat heavily down on the couch with his head in his hands, groaning.  “I didn’t even want to know about the condoms.  GAAAAAAH!  I hate this.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.  It’s part of the whole dad/daughter experience.  And if my dad was here, he’d tell you that the best thing to do is just ignore the whole thing.  I’m fully on board with that.  I got this one.”

“Thank you,” he said, relieved.  He didn’t change positions but reached out a hand to her.  She sat down next to him and kissed him.

“Which makes this a perfect time to tell you that Henry’s started to have wet dreams.  That one is all you, Dad.”

*************

Peter had a picture of Laura on their wedding day on his desk at the office.  He had a lot of other pictures of her, and of the kids, around his office, but that one sat right in front of him, where he could see it all the time.  He often looked at it and remembered how he had felt that day. He’d been so blissfully happy, so relieved that all the waiting and aching for Laura was over, and so excited about their life together that even he had laughed at himself for being such a sap. He kept that picture of his bride front and center to remind him that, had he known then what he knew now, he could have told himself he was actually underestimating how great the future would be.

He loved his kids.  He was exceedingly proud of both of them, and thanked God every day for them.  He loved being a father.  But even after all these years of marriage, more years now than the years they had been apart, the center of Peter’s life was still Laura.  He was still crazy in love with his wife.  

*********************

Rachael pulled up a stool and sat across the counter from where Laura was trying to pull up a recipe on her laptop.  

“Mom, how come you were married to someone else before Dad?”

Laura looked up at her, surprised by the question.  “Because your dad and I were just friends at the time, and I was in love with Rafael.”

“He’s Grandma Lucia’s son, right?  And he died, and I’m named after him.”

“That’s right.”

“But you loved Dad, too.”

“I did, but we weren’t ready to be together yet then.”

“Because when you were drinking, you were a bitch to him, and he wasn’t over it.”

“Neither was I.   And watch the language.”

Rachael rolled her eyes.  “Double standard much?”

Laura could only grimace and acknowledge the truth.  “I’m trying to raise you not to be as foulmouthed as me.”

“Good luck with that.  But… Rafael.  Who was he?  What was he like?” 

“You want the short version, or the one with pictures?” Laura indicated her laptop, where there were files upon files of pictures of Rafael.  “Because it’s a great story.  I could talk about him for days.”

“Is it romantic?”

“Very.”

“I guess I have time for some pictures.  Just don’t tell me any sex stuff.  GAAAAAAH.”  Laura felt a so-familiar surge of love for both Rachael and Peter in that moment – as the girl said that, she looked exactly like her father.  Laura came around the counter to sit next to her daughter and turned the laptop around so they could look at pictures.

Hours later, they had looked at all the pictures Rachael had the patience for, but she was still asking questions about Rafael.  

“What happened to the guy?”

“He’s in prison,” Laura answered.

“Is he ever getting out?”

A hard look came over Laura’s features.  “Never.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?  This guy is the reason you have to go to New York sometimes.”

“Well, I mostly go to see Grandma Lucia, since she’s getting too old to come stay with us anymore.  But yes.  That man is not getting out of prison, but he has parole hearings every few years.  I go to make sure the parole board understands who he is.”

“Do you ever think about him?  Like, want revenge?”

Laura was honest.  “I want to pummel him to death with my bare hands.”

“I can see why.”

“Yeah, but that’s not how God wants us to be.  I’ve been fighting to forgive him for twenty years. I don’t know how far I’ll ever get, but I keep trying.”

“What do you think Rafael would want?”

Laura laughed.  “Rafael would want to tell him what he thought of what he did.  And the guy should be very glad he never has to hear it, because by the time Rafael was done, the guy would wish he’d gone with lethal injection.”

“I think I would like Rafael.”

“I know you would.  And he would fu- freaking adore you.”

“Do you miss him?”

“I miss him every single day.”

Rachael frowned at that.  “Isn’t that cheating on Dad?”

“Of course not.  One has nothing to do with the other.” Laura took her time, trying to explain.  “Thank God I don’t have to choose.  I wish Rafael and I could have had a whole life together, and I’m grateful for the time I did get to have with him.  At the same time, if he’d lived, I wouldn’t have my life with your dad.  And we wouldn’t have you guys.”

“Are you still in love with Dad?”

“God, yes.  More than I could ever explain.  You’re going to have to experience it for yourself.”

“So who’s the love of your life?  Rafael, or Dad?”

“I’ve been in love with your father since I was nineteen years old.  I’m going to love him until the day I die.  And I also got to be in love with Rafael, and that love is going to last forever, too.  Hearts are big enough for two great loves, Rachael.  El amor todo lo puede.” 

~~~~~~~~THE END~~~~~~~~

[the-canary]

Heartbeat, Heartbreak - B.B (2/8)

Summary: Three musketeers until you started to fall in love. But, have you been living since then? (Modern!Reader/Bucky Barnes).  

Prompt: “That’s disgusting. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

A/N: This for @notimetoblog‘s writing challenge.

Feedback is always welcomed.

Darcy and Jane look at you despondent swinging your large glass of wine. Somehow, still sober enough to go over the story, but slowly losing yourself to depressing memories that you never really talked about with them, even with Jane -- who you considered your closest friend. So, here they were ready for you to open up to them in any way possible:  

“Bucky Barnes was the apple of everyone’s eyes, I knew that since kindergarten. All the teachers loved him. He was a cute kid with all the girls wanting to talk to him and all the boys wanting to play with him -- one bat of those pretty blue eyes and the store clerk gave him everything he wanted. He was named “cutest kid in class” like all 5 years of elementary school. We orbited around each other for a long time -- had the same classes, our moms were friends. That all changed in 5th grade, I think, that’s when we both met Natasha Romanoff.”

 You hear steps echoing down the hall and pounding in your head, as you look over the paperwork for the meeting this afternoon connected to the potential merger. There were a lot of things you were trying to ignore since you received the folder this morning --your slight hangover, the location of the place, the name of the CEO-- but it wasn’t really helping. Your laptop was opened to one web page and you were wondering if something was cursing you  for drinking and whining so much in one weekend.

“You look awful,” you hear a familiar voice from the glass door entrance of your office, as Sam gives you a teasing smile, only for you to groan. It wasn’t often that he saw you like this, but it did usually happen when something big was happening for the attorney branch of Stark Industries -- it would be hard for anyone else to believe that the star attorney was a mess just a few hours before any meeting.

Sam and you had been both picked up shortly after law school graduation by one Chester Phillips and have been stuck together ever since on most projects. However, Sam wasn’t aiming for the top spot at the current moment, not while he had a wife and child at home and the hours were already killing him to begin with, though he was there to support you in whatever way possible.

“It was a really depressing weekend,” you murmur, while rubbing your eyes. At least, it was as bad as when you had to meet Dr. Helen Cho and her associates in regards to their medical machinery.

“Well, I can tell you that a Mr. Rumlow had a much better one,” Sam states while taking a seat in front of your desk. A teasing smile on his lips due to your current state, but his eyes are all business -- it was a wonder of Sam to entrap people with his chill and friendly nature before he got them to do anything that he wanted. It still happened to you after years of knowing him.

“Please don’t tell me,” you groan in exasperation.

“Already took out a said Mr. Barnes to drinks and dinner last weekend,” Sam tells, as you try not to show any emotion at the mention of a certain last name, and while Sam quickly catches that grimace he decides not to say anything about it for now.

“Do you know if he’s already prepared to close?” you state, half angry at Rumlow for sneaking around and stealing this merger from you, but also hopeful that maybe you won’t have a meeting to deal with at all.

“Nope,” Sam declares, dashing your half-hopes away, “I heard Jack saying that Rumlow was fuming. Barnes wanted to hear both deals before signing anything with Stark.”

“Okay, okay,” you state in steady breathes, as Sam keeps watching you, “We can do this.”

It might be a little strange two have two lawyers always fighting within a company for mergers --it even seemed a bit detrimental--, but it came with how everything was organized after Tony Stark took over. One division of the attorneys worked directly for what was best for the board of directors, that’s where Rumlow, Pierce (a long time ago), and their group all came from. Chester Phillips, with all his stubbornness and general dislike towards Tony, still worked with his and the people coming in best interest in mind -- that how he picked you and Sam, thus you leaned more towards Pepper Potts-Stark and the couple’s general philanthropic interest from time to time.

However, Philips wasn’t going through pick favorites, he wanted one of you to seal the deal with Barnes’ Pharmaceuticals, and you had to throw yourself into an oncoming train with your past to do so.

“Sam,” you start off, brown eyes completely on you, “I think I have to disclose somethings before this afternoon’s meeting. It’s all a maybe at this point, but I just feel like you need to know.”

“Well, now it’s starting to feel like an episode of Ally Mcbeal. ”

 “She’s a real hardass. Won’t give up until you sign the cheapest deal possible.”

James wiggles in his seat thinking about everything that a certain Brock Rumlow had been saying about the other attorney he was going to be meeting with from Stark Industries -- and while the man had given him a lucrative deal for himself and the researchers, that wasn’t who he was thinking about.

“Treat people the same way you want to be treated,” Bucky whispers his father’s old motto like a lucky charm before playing with the ring on his right index finger -- thinking that his family was close always made him feel a bit better. He was still unsure about the whole thing, but he wanted the best for his employees that might not be moving directly into the bigger comgralmerate’s shadow.

It didn’t help that while he was doing his research that an all too familiar name kept popping up during his research in regards to the attorneys within Stark Industries. She was in a lucrative position and while there was no mention of anything related to her personal life outside of her college and law accolades, Bucky couldn't help but think of another person he had been thinking about recently.

“Sure, you’re okay there, pal,” the blond to his right side can’t help but ask as James gives him a weary smile. This had been taxing for both of them, but especially to Steve who was dealing with more of the accounting aspects while having a pregnant wife to tend to.

“Just want this meeting to finish already,” Bucky groans, but before he can say anything else heels on the pristine white floor of the hallway grab their attention.

There is a woman in a black dress and dark blazer combo and a man wearing a dark blue suit holding pads and folders walking towards them. The woman opens the door first and gives them a small smile with a handshake before going to the other side of the table. The man --introducing himself as Sam Wilson-- does the same. Bucky has to take a moment to breathe because here she is in front of him -- older and more serious than he remembers, but he can still picture where the stretches of baby fat once laid.

If she was cute before-- well, she was gorgeous now.

“I have some documents for you to quickly glance through,” she states as she hands the papers to Steve, “Now then, shall we get started?”

 The meeting last the whole two hours with James and Steve both agreeing amongst themselves that they enjoy the deal that she has presented to them compared to Rumlow’s last weekend. Steve also seems to quickly hit it off with Sam, trading banter and sports trivia, but she stays quiet most of the time. Answering and asking questions are the most that she does, but James can tell everything she states is calculated and purpose -- unlike Rumlow who just ran his mouth when he drank too much or saw a pretty gal walk his way.

“Every year you get disappointed cause you picked a losing team,” the breezy chuckle drags Bucky’s attention from his inner thoughts as he sees her laughing with Sam and Steve over what teams they are going for, in what sport Bucky isn’t exactly sure.

The two of them keep making small talk about where they grew up until the meeting runs it course and Steve states that they will be looking over some of the other documents with their accountants. She simply nods and give Steve a grateful smile.  

“Can I ask you one last thing?” Steve adds in, curious about a couple of things, “Where are you from?”

“ Brooklyn ,” she states like a bitter afterthought, “Born and raised.”

Steve doesn’t say anything and they move with saying goodbye and promising that more phone calls will follow. James gives her an unsteady smile and shakes her hand before leaving, but nothing tells him whether she is happy, angry, or even if she knows who he is, but Bucky knows -- deep down, he just can’t shake the feeling. She leaves the room without another word and Sam nods in their direction. Steve is confused for a moment until he sees Bucky’s face, at awe but a mixed bag of worry and grief.

“Please, don’t tell me you’ve slept with her,” Steve can’t help but ask, while gathering all the folders they have been given to look over. James stays silent, as his shoulders move downward as if a weight had been removed from them, but something else was now weighing heavily on his heart.

No, he did something much much worse -- he broke her heart.  

“So, was it him?” Sam can’t help but ask once they have made it safely away from earshot. You grip and release your hands multiple times, as you try to keep all the sick and ill feelings at bay because regardless of everything you might feel, you can’t help but notice that James Buchanan Barnes is still an attractive man.

His charming personality was still there and how he cared about all his employees regardless of what he might get in the end -- well, in another life that would have had you swooning. However, that didn’t change the past and the things you had gone through because of him and a certain redhead.

“Yeah,” you state, “I need to you handle the rest of the details for the merger. I-I can’t do it.”

“Are you sure?” Sam stops and stands in front of you. Brown eyes determined as he punches your shoulder lightly, “Are you gonna let Rumlow win?”

“Rumlow could have the world, as long as I don’t have to deal with James Barnes,” you state hotly before side stepping and walking down the hall once more.

What the hell did that man do?

Sam plans on following your advice when it comes to the merger, but also because of something else as well now.

[commentaryvorg]

Danganronpa V3 Commentary: Part 0.1

This is the beginning of what is essentially something like a text-based, very-not-blind Let’s Play of Danganronpa V3? I have a lot to say about this game’s story and characters, and this gives me an excuse to talk about any and every part of it that I feel is worth mentioning as I go along.

Be aware that this will contain spoilers for the entire game, regardless of the part of the game I’m commenting on. A major focus of this commentary is to talk about all of the hints and foreshadowing of events that are going to happen and facts that are going to be revealed in the future of the story. It is emphatically not intended for someone experiencing the game for their first time.

All characters appearing in this game are fictional.

Yup, they sure throw that right in your face at the very first moment. And every single time you turn on the game after that. No other Danganronpa game does this during its startup.

This opening movie showing Danganronpa 1, 2, 3 and UDG is supposed to be an in-universe advertisement for season 53, right? But why are they acting like this season is going to be connected to the Hope’s Peak arc? That definitely was not part of the original plan.

“No knowledge of who I am. …Who I am? Who am I? I extend a hand. A hand that belongs to no-one. To take hold of my existence—”

Pregame Kaede:  “This is me. My name is Kaede Akamatsu. I just remembered who I am. Nice to meet… me.”

Uhh. I would say this part is a significant sign of what’s going on here. It sure sounds like it’s written as though the character we’re meeting here is literally coming into existence as we watch. But, this is pregame Kaede, not our Kaede. Our Kaede literally does come into existence moments before we meet her. If these lines had been used for her introduction, they’d have been a really neat hint at what was going on! But it really doesn’t make sense for pregame Kaede, who already existed as a person before this moment and is simply waking up from being unconscious.

Pregame Kaede:  “I’m the protagonist of this crazy story.”

Again, would be nice foreshadowing (especially because Kaede’s not really the protagonist), except it doesn’t really make sense here because the “story” hasn’t started yet. It’s a pretty weird thing for pregame Kaede to be saying about herself.

Ultimate Revival

Hm, the original Japanese prologue title, “Rise of the Ultimates”, is actually a better hint to what’s really going on. The localised title makes it sound like they genuinely did lose their memories of being Ultimates and are going to regain them, but “Rise” implies they’re becoming Ultimates for the first time, which they are.

Pregame Kaede:  “…A classroom?” (Yeah, this is a classroom alright. But… I don’t recognize it.) “Where am I…? What am I doing here…?” 

Pregame Kaede, you have just woken up to find yourself in a strange classroom with barbed wire on the windows. Surely you have seen enough seasons of Danganronpa to have an inkling of where this might be going.

For some reason, pregame Shuichi’s hat is the same hat that our Shuichi will continue to wear. I guess the producers had the idea for incorporating that hat into his backstory and issues when they saw his audition. Obviously, there needs to be a different in-universe reason for the writers to give him the hat than the out-universe reason that he’s the real protagonist and they had to hide his Protagonist Hair until the reveal. In-universe, the protagonist is Keebo.

The pregame characters – at least Shuichi and Kaede; we don’t hear anyone else’s name except Rantaro, who isn’t “pregame” – have the same names as the Ultimate characters. Seems a little surprising that the writers wouldn’t have picked new names for them, but I guess this isn’t Ace Attorney where everyone’s name has to be a pun. (Also, obviously, out-universely we’d have been a bit suspicious if the characters in the first half of the prologue had completely different names).

Pregame Kaede:  “Now listen to me, Shuichi… Shut up! You’re not the only one who’s confused right now!”

Pregame Shuichi:  “Ah, sorry…”

Pregame Kaede:  (After making him shut up, I retraced my steps again.) 

Pregame Kaede sure sounds a lot more selfish and less encouraging than our Kaede, doesn’t she.

So they were kidnapped and brought here. Which, uh… isn’t exactly the most logical way to bring in your successful auditionees. I could try to argue that Team Danganronpa told everyone their audition failed to try and avoid them blabbing to the general public and then went about it this way or something, but… honestly I’m just going to put this down to the rather flimsy out-universe writing for everything relating to how the outside world works. There’s going to be a lot of this in this part of the prologue. The out-universe writers didn’t want to make it too obvious what was going on, so they had to have some method of coming here that seemed plausibly like they were unwillingly being dragged into a killing game.

I’m putting it down to bad writing and not to a deliberate hint that actually the whole fiction thing was all a lie and they really were kidnapped by the Gofer Project or whatever because…

Pregame Kaede:  “Everyone pretended like nothing happened… It made me think how rotten the world is…”

…this is a very clear indication that this is not our Kaede. Pregame Kaede said in her audition tape that she had no faith in humanity, and this matches that perfectly. Even if you could argue that having wiped all of Ultimate Pianist Kaede’s memories of playing the piano would have made her less of an optimistic person (since all of her optimism is based in the reasons she plays piano), it wouldn’t have made her actively more cynical like this.

Pregame Kaede:  “But… why me? My family’s not rich and I’m no one special.”

I don’t know, Kaede, maybe because you auditioned to be in Danganronpa? This is another of the main problems I have with the way the outside world is portrayed in this game – and by “outside world” I’m including the pregame versions of the characters that we’re seeing here. It should be obvious to all of them that they’ve just wound up in the opening of a Danganronpa story! They should be celebrating!

Partly I can see that the out-universe writers are doing this to bring up the fact that right now these kids are perfectly normal non-Ultimates, but. Still.

Hello, giant humanoid mecha! Did you know this is Danganronpa, Gurren Lagann edition. Or it will be once our equivalents of Simon and Kamina actually exist.

Huh. I’m messing around letting pregame Kaede get thrown around by the Exisal, and there’s this flashing red effect on the edges of the screen, as if indicating she’s in pain, that keeps intensifying each time it happens. It stops intensifying after about four times, though; obviously you can’t actually die. That’d have cut the killing game short, heh. Although they’d probably have just picked another auditionee to take her place.

Oh man, look at pregame Kaito’s expression. He just looks so disgusted and contemptuous. That is so definitely not our Luminary of the Stars right now. Kirumi also looks uncharacteristically nervous, and maybe Kokichi does too? But our Kokichi pretends to be nervous often enough that maybe that’s not such a huge clue in his case.

Pregame Kokichi: “Do you want me to check on what’s happening?”

This, though, is pretty telling. He’s genuinely offering to do something to help out! That is not the Kokichi we know.

Pregame Tenko: “You can’t! It’s too dangerous out there!”

I also have to wonder if our Tenko would have said this given that the person who offered to take that risk is male. It’s possible that her worry about the danger would have overridden her misandry for a moment, though.

Rantaro:  “There are 16 of us – all high schoolers. What do you think that means?”

Yeah, guys, what do you think that means? Rantaro should not be the only one here who knows what is going on. The out-universe writers probably had everyone else not also show signs of this since they wanted to hint that Rantaro in particular knows more than he’s letting on, but, still. Right now, everyone should know what this means. Except maybe Keebo.

I’m assuming that this is a Rantaro who still has his memories and identity from season 52 and is fully aware that he’s been thrown into a new killing game. That seems to make the most sense – if they forgot to give all the new characters their memories, they might have forgotten to wipe his, too. And he’s a lot more obvious about being familiar with this situation than he’s going to be after the reset.

One thing to note is that everyone’s superficial personalities – speech patterns and such – seem more or less the same as they’re going to be. Guess that’s something that’s harder to rewrite by implanting fake memories, even if you can change the actual person behind that personality?

You know, I’m not sure why Tsumugi is here in a non-Ultimate outfit if this was supposed to be the real beginning and everyone else being in non-Ultimate clothes wasn’t planned. Keebo too, for that matter. But again, the out-universe writers don’t want to give stuff away.

Also, Keebo’s wearing a hat to hide his Protagonist Hair, aka antenna. Does that mean his antenna just isn’t there right now? Is he connected to the audience yet? Are they seeing this through his eyes and being very confused?

Monokid:  “I told ya we shoulda read the script!”

Hah. That’s pretty telling. I mean, on a first watch it probably seems like they just had a script for how they were supposed to present themselves as gamemasters for the killing game, but no, it’s literally the script for this entire story.

There’s a lot of little hints like this, particularly from Monokuma and his cubs, and I’m going to have fun pointing them all out.

(However, other than that I will be ignoring most everything the Monokubs say, because all of their bits are almost entirely annoying and extraneous.)

Pregame Maki:  “Moving stuffed animals…”

Pregame Ryoma:  “On top of that, it seems like they’re calling themselves the ‘Monokubs’.”

Pregame Kaede: (Moving stuffed animals? Monokubs?) “Wait! You guys call yourselves… the Monokubs? 

On a first watch, this’d just sound like everyone’s bewildered (with good reason), but in reality, this at least is a hint that everyone knows what’s really going on here and is finally starting to piece it together. Took them long enough, though.

However, given that they’ve finally figured it out, someone should really just get it over with and blurt out, “Oh my god we’re in Danganronpa!”. They’re all thinking it now.

Rantaro:  “This is exactly what I thought it was. 

Yep, Rantaro, but you’re really not the only one who’s thinking that anymore.

Rantaro:  “Why the ridiculous theatrics—” 

Oh dear, did your previous season not have the Monokubs or anything else equally annoying and extraneous, Rantaro? Man, you got lucky.

Monosuke:  “Ya think maybe they haven’t been given their first memory yet?”

Ha. “Given” their memory. Yeah, that’s totally how memories work, right.

Pregame Kaede:  “Hey, answer my question! If you guys are the Monokubs, then—”

Oh my god, Kaede, if you’ve figured it out then just blurt it out, stop letting them cut you off.

Pregame Kaede: “I have a skill that I devote myself to… but I wouldn’t call it an Ultimate talent… 

I wonder this is actually playing the piano or something else. She could have chosen her talent because of that, but also the writers could have just given her a different talent to what she asked for.

Pregame Shuichi:  “M-Me either… I-I don’t… have anything like that…”

Meanwhile pregame Shuichi literally has nothing. He only wanted to be a detective because he thought they were cool.

Pregame Kaito:  “Y-Yeah… same here.”

Neither does pregame Kaito; like hell this asshole would have the communication and teamwork skills necessary to be an astronaut at all, let alone earlier than usual.

Kaede is still trying to butt in and ask if this is Danganronpa and still getting cut off before she says the spoilery part of that sentence.

Monotaro:  “See, according to the backstory, there’s this Ultimate Hunt goin’ on.” 

Haha, yep, that’s really all it is: a backstory.

Tsumugi:  “Umm… what are you talking about?”

Heh, and Tsumugi’s the one to act confused about that. She’s probably worried that he just said too much. In fact, for someone so apparently-not-that-important, she has a lot more lines in this scene than most other characters, which I imagine is deliberate.

This magical girl clothes-changing sequence can’t be how things really happened. On my first time I was sure this had to be meaningful and took it as a hint they were doing the simulation thing again, but I was also sceptical that they’d do the same twist twice. But yeah – it just… can’t be how this happened? I’m not sure what really did happen here. Unless they have some really weird technology in this universe.

Monokid:  “Once the seal has been broken, we’ll be in the domain of the killing game!”

Pregame Kaede:  (K-Killing game?)

And from this moment, what we’re seeing here omits a few parts to avoid spoiling us. This is finally the point at which everyone reacts to being in Danganronpa. Again, took you guys long enough, geez.

Monotaro:  “This amazing story will begin for real this time! 

Yup. It’s a story all right.

Some of the words in the background during the Flashback Light sequence are pretty telling – not only does it have a bunch of stuff relating to the piano, there’s also things like “Chatty” and “Friends”, showing that her entire personality and history are being shown to her right now, including parts that shouldn’t ever have been erased if all she erased was her talent.

There’s also “Moonlight”, which I believe is a mistranslation that should say “Clair de Lune” – it’s French for moonlight, and in Japanese the piece’s title isn’t the French name but is just the Japanese term for moonlight, so it seems someone on the localisation team missed the memo that this was referring to the piece of music and translated it into English rather than French.

I would note that Gonta was one of the characters who never spoke at all during this section, which is clearly deliberate because if he had we’d have noticed him speaking with correct grammar… except then I remembered that he uses correct grammar in the original Japanese anyway. So that’s just a coincidence. I wonder what the localisers would have done with that if he had been one of the ones to speak up.

Keebo also doesn’t say a word, which has to be deliberate. I’m not sure exactly what would be going on with him here – surely he must already have been given his “character”, because he doesn’t have a pregame identity at all.

 After the reset, our Kaede starts out reacting word-for-word the same way as pregame Kaede did – as I said, it seems that the superficial personalities weren’t really rewritten. However, everything else about the kind of people they are has very significantly changed.

Kaede:  “How rude! Don’t freak out at me like I’m some sort of monster!”

Shuichi:  “Ah, sorry…”

Kaede:  “I’m sorry too, okay? I just have no idea what’s going on…”

Tellingly, the point at which this starts to diverge from what originally happened is when Kaede and Shuichi apologise to each other for freaking out, rather than getting into an argument. Because these are both good people, and their pregame selves weren’t.

Kaede:  “Oh! ‘Gymnopédie No. 1’ by Erik Satie. Try to imagine that sorrowful melody filling your head and soothing your heart— 

Also Kaede is now a huge piano geek. Too much of a geek to realise that Shuichi probably doesn’t know the piece she’s talking about, but, she was trying to help him calm down! Kaede is good.

Heh, during the Monokubs’ exposition about Ultimates, they mention they have eligibility to run for elected office. I think you’ll find a certain Ultimate is already technically the prime minister (albeit without having been elected).

Okay, but, question. Shuichi and Kaede started out shut in these two lockers in this classroom. But this and the Flashback Light classroom are the only classrooms with lockers. That is not enough lockers for everyone. Where did everyone else start out?

Kaede:  “You’re a detective? That’s amazing!”

Shuichi:  “Ah, no… I don’t have the credentials to call myself a detective yet… I just… happened to solve a case that I came across and… now people call me that.”

Kaede:  “Not many people can ‘just happen’ to solve a case. You should be more proud of that.”

Aww, Shuichi’s lack of confidence in his title and Kaede already encouraging him.

This series of images of Kaede growing as a pianist is really cute. Warmed me to her straight away the first time around.

Shuichi:  “That’s how you got your Ultimate title? That’s way more impressive than me…”

Kaede:  “No. That’s all I’m good for, really.”

And she seems really self-conscious about the “Piano Freak” thing, the fact that she’s so obsessed with it that she thinks she doesn’t have anything else going for her. That’s not true, Kaede! You’re an amazing person, all because of how hard you work and how much you want to make others smile 

So already Kaede and Shuichi both have a reason to admire the other for their talent – Kaede admires Shuichi’s talent because it’s much cooler and more useful than hers, and Shuichi admires Kaede’s because she worked really hard for it and didn’t just get her title by chance.

Kaede:  “But this is my first time meeting another Ultimate student.” 

Kaede seems enthusiastic to meet other Ultimates, too. I bet she’s hoping she can bond over the shared feeling of being really passionate about something, even if that something is different for each of them. No-one’s going to call her Piano Freak if they’re equally obsessed with something else themselves.

Shuichi:  “When I woke up, I was in that locker. I… don’t know how I got there… It’s like… that memory just fell out of my head—”

Not really – it got overwritten. The only one who would have had memories erased just now would have been Rantaro 

Kaede:  “We’re confused. We just need to relax, is all. Oh! Let’s imagine Maurice Ravel’s ‘Sonatine’…”

Playing music is all about influencing people to feel certain emotions, and Kaede cares so much about trying to do that to help out even when she doesn’t have a piano!

Kaede:  “When we get outta here, I’ll share it with you…”

oh no it’s not even Clair de Lune but ouch

I really like how the fragments in this game are Friendship Fragments, not Hope Fragments. Almost like friendship is one of the main themes of this game or something! It’s also neat design-wise how the first fragment is much smaller than the main petal-like fragments, because just being introduced to someone is only the small foundation for the much more meaningful friendship that might come.

---

[Next post]

[navpike]

Licensed Response: Chapter 2

"I'm just going to lend a hand," Caleb says. He doesn’t want to make this a hero thing, but this sounds big. He can help out a few civilians and leave when the cops or a proper Powered Response Team shows up.

“Is this even legal?” Veth screeches.

(It really isn't legal.)

Or, the one where the Nein are a team of superheroes (well, they're working on it, at least).

Chapter Two: i got no one for the quiet life [on ao3]

Caleb releases a blast of fire at the nearest pair of zombies, incinerating them in an instant, but two more immediately take their place, and Caleb groans in frustration.

“Stay away from the creature! Everybody get back!” he calls.

It’s marginally effective.

He really wants to be able to be able to throw up a wall of fire, but the blast radius from that will only hurt more civilians and hurt Veth, and Caleb doesn’t want that. He can’t hurt any more innocent people, not again.

Instead of throwing up a wall, he lobs a ball of flames at another pair of zombies with one hand, and another at the beast. The zombies go up in smoke, but the thing barely flinches.

Caleb swears loudly in German. Veth the giant mutated wolf shoots him a withering look, and launches herself at the beast. Her fangs tear into its forearm, rending flesh, and she comes away spitting blood from her mouth and gagging. Caleb grimaces in sympathy. That can’t taste good.

He launches another volley of fireballs at the zombies, cutting another two down, and racks his brain for a way to fight this thing if his fire is barely singeing it.

As he’s debating simply fleeing, a Powered Response Team should be here soon anyway, a spear sprouts out of the beast’s back.

Caleb glances around for it’s source, and lands on a cluster of people appearing from an alleyway to his right.

There’s a group of five, two lagging further behind the other three. Caleb identifies the one who threw the spear first, because as she emerges from the alley, another spear appears from nowhere, and she throws it again with practiced precision. She has an undercut, remaining hair tied up in a messy bun, needs a bit of touching up. Despite the mask covering the top half of her face, Caleb instantly recognizes her as the woman, Beau, from ZuZu’s. He also recognizes that uniform. Sentinel, a graduate of the Cobalt Academy, Soltryce’s sister school. Caleb’s seen her a couple of times before. But he wasn’t aware she was a licensed…

Caleb glances behind her. Oh. No, she’s not here as a part of a PRT. The people behind her are not professionals any city would send out as part of a response team.

A man in beat up jeans, Timberland boots, and a plain black hoodie, with a bandanna tied around his face, and a woman in sapphire blue spandex, her face half covered in a severe black mask, flank Sentinel, and Caleb can identify the man right away.

The X-shape scar and shock of white hair give him away. From that, Caleb can only assume the woman in blue is Jester, though her uniform does a far better job at concealing her identity.

The two people behind them turn out to be a woman dressed like a flat out viking, massive sword and all, her identity concealed by smears of black face paint and the haze of black smoke that seems to hover around her face, and another person dressed in flowy silver and lavender, a gaudy mask across their face covering almost everything but their mouth.

Caleb doesn’t recognize the viking woman, but he has an idea about the last person. He’s fairly certain that she’s Platinum, half of a vigilante duo, twins, likely, who share a power set, and switch on and off in who responds to incidents. There’s a warrant out for their arrests, vigilantism is a crime after all, but Caleb’s almost certain that Platinum and Silvertongue’s powers will keep them from ever serving time. From what Caleb can tell, they have an ability to make people do anything, an ability that sets him on edge and brings up memories of Ikithon, though as far as he knows, Platinum and Silvertongue have never used their abilities for anything but the good of others and to keep out of jail. But still. There’s more he doesn’t know about them than he does know.

Now is not the time to be concerned about this.

He shakes his head to rid himself of the thought and incinerates two more zombies.

Platinum throws her arms wide and gives a confident smirk as she approaches.

“I’ve heard that you beasts tire out pretty easily, isn’t that right?” she calls out over the din of the chaos around them.

The beast immediately goes sluggish, moving like it’s going in slow-motion.

“That’ll only last so long, dears! I’d recommend doing your things quickly!” Platinum shouts to them as the beast slows.

Caleb doesn’t pay it much attention, instead focusing on the last three zombies.

He burns through them quickly, turning back to the beast just in time to see Fjord twist his hands, commanding a stream of water that’s appeared in the air to wrap around the beast’s face.  Veth tears through the beast’s other arm, as Jester leaps onto the creatures back. Her hands go black, like decay is crawling up her arms, and everywhere she touches, ugly, gaping wounds appear, leaking pus and blood in a truly disgusting fashion. Beau launches another set of spears at the beast’s chest, and pulls a bo-staff out of thin air to deflect when it tries to swat at her with one large hand.

The viking woman steps forward then, and calls at everyone to get back, which sends them all scattering. She says something that Caleb can’t make out, and plunges her sword into the ground, straight through the asphalt. For a moment, nothing happens, and Caleb’s heart sinks, because the beast is gunning straight for this woman, but just as Caleb thinks that’s it for her, something happens.

A single storm cloud manifests directly over the viking woman, a dark smear in an otherwise clear sky. She screams, a war cry if Caleb’s ever heard one, and rips her sword out of the ground. When she swings it this time, it crackles with electricity, and lightning arcs from her blade to the beast’s body. She barely nicks the thing’s arm as it makes a grab for her, but just that small touch is enough to sever the limb from the beast’s body.

It sucks in a surprised breath, but with Fjord’s bubble still around its face, it takes in only water, and as they watch, the beast convulses once, twice, and goes completely still.

Everything is blessedly, thankfully silent for a long moment. The silence is broken by the sound of sirens and screeching tires as the police finally arrive, no Powered Response Team in sight, and Caleb lets out an almost hysterical laugh.

He’s still got his license to intervene in incidents like this one, no matter how much most people don’t want him to have one, how much he doesn’t deserve it. Sentinel might have one too. But the others? Veth? They’ve just stopped a huge threat with minimal casualties, and almost no public property damage, and they’re probably going to go to jail for vigilantism.

“Hands in the air! All of you, on your knees, hands in the air!” a cop shouts, and Caleb sighs, and gets to his knees without protest.

Jester almost protests, before Fjord clasps a hand on her shoulder and brings her to her knees as he goes down too.

“Don’t give ‘em any reason to use those things,” Fjord mutters, and Caleb can see a slight tremor in Fjord’s hands.

Caleb whispers over his shoulder, “You have just committed an act of vigilantism and been caught. You are considered armed and dangerous to them, by virtue of what you can do. Do not argue. Not now. Say nothing. It is for your own safety.”

“Hey, pipe down!” another cop shouts at him as a few of them begin to approach.

Caleb faces front again. Recognition flickers across a few people’s faces.

“I have a Incident Response License, officer!” he says, loud enough to be heard without shouting. “It is in the front pocket of my uniform if I may reach for it?”

He gets the okay, and, slowly (he can see the guns still trained on them), he takes out the badge and ID that says he was allowed to do this, and tosses it towards the nearest cop. The woman looks it over, glances between it and him, and finally tosses it back to him.

“Your hair’s grown, Blitz. You’ll want to get a new ID picture taken. But you’re free to go.”

“I’ve got a license as well, officer,” Beau says, and the process is repeated again.

“Sentinel. You’re free to go, too,” an officer says, and Beau gets to her feet with Caleb.

As they back up a few steps, Caleb watches with a wince as Veth melts into another form again, her expression twisted in a way that tells Caleb that she didn’t really want to do that. Still, she seems to gather just enough control to direct the change, so she ends up looking like herself with a mask, though she does have mottled green skin. She groans in frustration.

“The rest of you have just commit an act of vigilantism. You are all under arrest on this charge. You all have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you. Do you all understand these rights as they have been read to you?”

There’s muttered assent from all of them, save Platinum, who stands, despite the direct order that had been issued before.

“Well officer,” Platinum says, and several guns move to train on her. “We’ve just done the city a great service. We contained the incident and ended it with shockingly few casualties, given the scale of this emergency. I mean, a beast of this size usually takes out a city block or two and injures or kills countless civilians in the process. When was the last time an incident was handled so efficiently in this city?”

As Platinum speaks, Caleb can feel the oppressive weight of her mind manipulation, even though it’s not directed at him.

“You know, she’s right,” Beau mutters.

“He, but thank you,” Platinum corrects, and Caleb sees more than hears Beau apologize to him. “I am right. I know you folks are just doing your jobs, but how about a meeting with someone who can do something about this? We do a truly remarkable job helping this city’s finest out. We really should be licensed, shouldn’t we?”

The cops around them, all looking just a touch dazed now, nod in agreement.

Caleb’s skin crawls.

“Fantastic, why don’t you get us that meeting then, dearest,” Platinum says, directly to the cop who had first spoken to them.

“Someone get Deputy Mayor Feelid on the phone!” the cop shouts, and Platinum lets out a breath Caleb hadn’t seen him holding.

“Oh thank god that worked,” he whispers as the cops around them all lower their weapons.

Beau raises an eyebrow at him. “That was impressive.”

Platinum scoffs. “It was. My influence doesn’t usually cover this many people. We’ll just be lucky if we can get that meeting with the deputy mayor so we can convince them to license us. Town Hall is shielded against powers. So we’d be on our own there.”

“I don’t want to know how you know that,” the viking woman says, with something like motherly concern in her voice.

There is little resemblance between her pale, hulking figure and Platinum’s lithe, tan form, so Caleb doubts any familial relation, but he doesn’t discount the strength of some friendships, ones like his and Veth’s.

Caleb sighs, a little long suffering and a little bit relieved. Veth is suddenly at his side, though she hadn’t been a second before. Caleb puts a hand on her shoulder, but quickly withdraws it at her wince.

“What’s wrong?” Caleb asks, just as Fjord and Jester join their little gathering.

“Oh no! Is someone hurt?” Jester asks, giving them all a quick scan.

Veth hisses out a short breath through her teeth. “It caught me in the side. I think it cracked a couple of ribs. Hurts,” she mumbles.

“Oh! I can fix that! Easy-peasy! Just hold still for a second, and I’m going to touch your side, if that’s okay!”

Veth regards her suspiciously with narrowed eyes for a moment before nodding once. “But don’t try any funny business missy!”

Jester nods solemnly. “No problem!”

She lays her hands gently on Veth’s side, and her brow furrows in concentration. Her hands begin to glow, a faint white light unlike the ugly rot from during the battle. Veth gasps and the light dies out.

“There we go! You had three cracked ribs, you were right, but they’re all fixed up now.”

“That’s incredible,” Caleb mutters.

“Oh, thank you! That means a lot coming from someone like you, Blitz,” she says, and no amount of her charming accent and pleasant demeanor can stop Caleb’s flinch at that name. “Oh, are you hurt too?”

Caleb shakes his head and sits on a large chunk of crumbled building.

Veth glances at him and then back to the group.

“Who are you people anyway?” she says, and that’s the perfect distraction.

“Well,” Jester says, “I’m Render! And this is Quartermaster and Sentinel,” she says with a gesture to first Fjord, and then Beau. “I don’t know them.”

Platinum laughs, and the viking woman smiles softly.

“I’m Silvertongue,” Platinum introduces himself, and Caleb actually looks up at that. He was severely mistaken about him, it seems. “Oh don’t look at me like that, sweetcheeks. It’s not my fault that the media loses it’s collective shit over the fact that I change how I dress occasionally. Sometimes I like to feel pretty while I fight crime, what can I say. Sue me.” There’s a moment where that thought almost takes root in Caleb’s mind as a command, but Silvertongue seems to realize what he’s done and he waves a hand. “Don’t actually. Pay that no mind. The power’s a little touchy sometimes.”

The viking woman shakes her head at him, and sheathes her sword as she takes a seat on a large chunk of rubble.

“I’m Sky Spear. Silver and I have known each other for a while. I have to admit, having more than just the two of us in a fight was pretty nice. Made things a lot easier, at least.”

“Teams have their benefits and their drawbacks,” Caleb mutters, and all eyes snap to him.

He curses in German, and Veth glares at him.

He sighs.

“I suppose you all know who I am.”

“I do not,” Sky Spear says, and Caleb’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What? I’m Canadian.”

The response actually startles a laugh out of Caleb, it’s so unexpected. Caleb’s laugh sparks a response from all of them, after that, and soon enough they’re all giggling like children, sitting in a circle in the rubble, a mere few feet away from the corpse of a beast.

It’s entirely incongruous to their situation, but refreshing, nonetheless.

“Well, because you are the only one who does not know, I am Blitz. I’m somewhat infamous, to many Americans,” Caleb finally says, staring intently at his hands.

“Why is that?” Sky Spear asks.

“Perhaps that is a story for another day, my friend.”

“Ah. I understand,” she says softly, and turns to Veth. “And what about you?”

Veth’s eyes go wide, and her skin shifts rapidly through several different colors before it settles back into her usual tan.

“Oh, uh, I’m not, I mean,” she stumbles over her words.

“You’re Not?”

Veth grimaces, but still nods. “Uh, yes? Yeah. I’m Nott! Two ‘T’s. Nott the Brave! That’s what they call me! For sure.”

Caleb hides a snicker in a cough and Veth stares at him with a look that says ‘don’t say a word’.

Caleb stays dutifully silent.

“Hey, you lot!” a cop calls, and Silvertongue flinches, his eyes going wide. Caleb has a moment of panic along with him that his manipulation has worn off, but the cop simply continues. “What do you call yourselves? Deputy Mayor needs a PRT name.”

“We are, uh, The Mighty--” Fjord begins tentatively.

“Nein!” Caleb snaps. They are not a team, he does not want to tie more people into his issues, absolutely not, no.

“The Mighty Nine? But there’s only seven of you?” the cop says.

“Yep!” Jester says, gleefully.

Caleb smacks a hand to his forehead. Dear god, this has gotten out of hand.

“Yes,” Beau says, completely deadpan. “The Mighty Nein. Nein like the German ‘no’.”

The cop eyes them skeptically, but relays the information anyway. Caleb lets out a irritated sigh that draws laughter from the others, even Veth. He gives her a look that he hopes conveys ‘traitor’. She just laughs more.

“Deputy Mayor Bryce Feelid will meet with you all tomorrow to decide whether or not to license The Mighty Nein as a Power Response Team on a probationary status for the next six months. For tonight, you’ll all be under house arrest, but in the interest of keeping you in a singular location to keep better track of you, the Deputy Mayor has decided you’ll be confined to rooms at a hotel two blocks from here. Hope you lot don’t mind spending time in close quarters,” the cop says, and Caleb can see Silvertongue’s influence over him is beginning to slip in the curl of his lip and in the bitterness in his voice.

A grumble goes up through the group, but no one says anything in protest.

“Well, Mighty Nein! Your police escort awaits.”

Caleb curses in German.

~*~

Within forty eight hours, the Mighty Nein are an officially licensed Powered Response Team.

[savvicc666]

Waddup? Are y’all tired of me posting about Johnny vs. Amber yet? Idgaf, because here’s some more stuff. Since, apparently, a good chunk of AH supporters think I’m lying about most of the things I’m saying. Here’s my facts once again, stated as a whole with links to evidence to back me up. 

Now, we’re gonna start with back before Johnny and Amber were together. Back to Amber and Tasya van Ree. In 2003 AH was arrested for attacking her girlfriend (Tasya) in public. Here’s the article and here’s her mugshot.

In response to this I’ve heard multiple AH stans say that this doesn’t matter for multiple reasons. I’ve heard “Oh, Tasya dropped the charges” and “Oh, but it doesn’t matter because it’s female on female.” What? Neither of those things matter, they don’t matter because the attack still happened.

Moving on, I want to talk about the divorce now. Amber filed for divorce May of 2016, 2 days after Johnny’s mother had passed away. In divorce papers she doesn’t claim to have been abused, citing “irreconcilable differences” as her reason for divorce as well as asking for spousal support. A few days later she filed for a temporary restraining order, at which point she was responded to saying that she was in no immediate danger being as Johnny was and would continue to be out of the country for several months. After which, they granted her a restraining order after posting a picture to twitter of her bruised face (I don’t have the link to her twitter post, but you guys all saw it, obviously.) Afterwards she releases this statement. Where she tells a heartbreaking tale, only to turn around and request (1) the residence that they shared, (2) the range rover that she had been driving (even though, she owns a car that Johnny bought and fixed up for her, (3) possession of her dog and (4) $50,000 a month as spousal support. (She also requested that he pay for the mortgage on said residence and for her legal fees.) This statement was released after a letter stating the same basic requests was sent to Johnny Depp’s team (by Laura Wasser, AH’s divorce attorney). Unfortunately, I don’t have the link to said letter, but as I said it states predominately the same things (although, including the fact that if Johnny does not sign to agree they will release the statement publicly. Of course, Johnny declined to sign it and so they released the statement.)

I’d like to mention here with the whole spousal support business; Yes, of course, she’s entitled to spousal support. The thing is that she claims to be a strong independent woman and after this statement she was attacked online by people saying that she’s “in this for the money.” She countered this by saying it’s not true and that she would donate all of the checks to charity. When Johnny offered to donate the money on her behalf (so it would all be donated at once instead of in intervals as spousal support checks are paid month to month) she refused. As far as I know, she hasn’t donated any of the money to charity. I’d also like to share at this time, evidence that she needs the money, seeing as how she spends more money than she makes. She also asked the court to deny any request from him for spousal support. 

Along with the aforementioned statement, AH also released this video to TMZ as “proof of abuse.” (This is the same video that she submitted in court which was deemed inadmissible due to the fact that HE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING IN THE VIDEO EXCEPT SLAM AND KICK CABINETS!) Question, if you’re fucking scared of your husband why’re you sitting there, egging him on and recording him? For the record, she later stated that she never sent that video to TMZ, even though it was recorded on her cell phone (and released before it was shown in court.) Her only other proof in court was the picture of her bruised face, which was also deemed inadmissible due to the fact that she would not supply the metadata for said photo, which would’ve proven when the photo was taken (along with other things, such as if it was edited, etc.)

Johnny’s evidence consisted of 20 eyewitnesses who saw Amber Heard on the day after Johnny allegedly attacked her without the bruise she had previously mentioned. Amber ended up admitting, under oath, that Johnny had never abused her and that she in fact had abused him throughout the course of their relationship.

After the divorce was settled, Amber taking money over justice (go figure). Both actors said that they just wanted to put this behind them and move on with their lives... lmao why is it then that Amber still continuously brings it up?

Here’s an article put in Allure magazine. Firstly, this article just seems very unprofessionally written. It’s essentially drinking and gossiping, but you know what’s illegal? To claim to be a domestic abuse “victim,” “survivor,” whatever when you dropped the charges. I repeat YOU DROPPED THE CHARGES in order to “speed up your divorce.” Johnny, honestly could’ve sued for defamation of character at this point, but... who cares?

I could spend all day finding links to stupid videos of interviews, features, etc. where she is either belittling Johnny (both behind his back and to his face), pulling him away from fans, and just plain being rude. None of that constitutes divorce, but... hey... you don’t see Johnny doing any of that shit, or even arguing with her doing it, do you? Nah...

Fast Forward, Amber released this statement on the Washington Post. This is where she’s landed herself in hot water. After almost 3 years of this shit going on, Amber claiming to be an abuse survivor, Johnny losing jobs and being belittled he’s had enough of it. I can’t really say that I blame him. He’s decided to sue her for defamation of character. Earlier this month, evidence was released on The Blast of an incident where Johnny’s finger was split open (almost off of his finger). Previously, AH had stated that, in a fit, Johnny split his own finger open with a bottle, dipped his open wound in dark blue pain and wrote on a mirror “Billy Bob and Easy Amber.” As he thought at the time that Amber was cheating on him with Billy Bob Thorton and had accused her of sleeping with multiple others as well. This injury postponed the filming of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales for 7-ish months, due to his hand being in a cast. At which time he gave the excuse of having punched a wall in a heated fight with Amber. Prior to this lawsuit, Johnny has also stated that (on the night of her 30th birthday) Amber had punched him twice in the face while they were in bed reading, saying that she was mad that he had been late home. Afterwards he left, escorted by his security who witnessed the bruise on Depp’s face. 

You guys get to decide who you’re siding with on this one... Parts of it are slightly fuzzy, but I choose to believe Johnny. Not because he’s one of my favourite actors, or any other superficial reason, but because Johnny is not out trying to convince everyone of his innocence or Amber’s guiltiness. I believe him, because throughout all of this he’s stayed silent. He’s let people trash his name, ruin his reputation and get him fired. He’s accepted for 3 years that Amber would go around saying to her fans and her friends that she’s an abuse “survivor” while he is the abuser. You can’t blame him for being tired of it. If you can seriously believe Amber, I’d like you to tell me why? People believe her because she’s a woman... Obviously, a woman couldn’t lie about such things, a woman couldn’t abuse a man. That’s the most ridiculously disgusting and sexist thing that I’ve ever heard you people say. Amber has no evidence to back up her claims.. none at all. Dropping the charges should’ve made it look bad on her, but of course it didn’t because she’s already been “strong enough” to stand up for herself. WHERE WAS SHE STRONG? Where? Seems to me like she accused, took it back and got money. While claiming to have been paid ‘hush money’ in the Allure column that’s funny since that’s the money she was paid as alimony. 

Anyway, lol, it’s 2 am, I’m tired... I’ve posted, said and heard so much today and yesterday about this situation. I’ll be done talking about it until Johnny wins. As always, we love you Johnny. I love all of you for reading. Goodnight.

[xtruss]

Factbox: Key moments in murder trial of Derek Chauvin

— By Reuters Staff

Reuters) - Former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin was convicted of murder and manslaughter on Tuesday in the death of George Floyd during an arrest last May.

Here are some of the key moments of the trial, which began on March 29:

PROSECUTORS TELLS JURORS TO ‘BELIEVE YOUR EYES’

During their closing argument on Monday, prosecutors told jurors to “believe your eyes” as they replayed video of George Floyd’s death while being held down with Chauvin’s knee on his neck.

Prosecutor Steve Schleicher also repeatedly referred to “Nine minutes and 29 seconds,” — the length of time Chauvin was captured on video on May 25, 2020.

“This wasn’t policing; this was murder,” Schleicher told jurors, often speaking with audible anger and disgust.

“He was trapped with the unyielding pavement beneath him, as unyielding as the men who held him down,” Schleicher said.

CHAUVIN’S ATTORNEY SAYS HE ACTED AS A ‘REASONABLE POLICE OFFICER’

Chauvin’s lead lawyer, Eric Nelson, told jurors during his closing argument that his client behaved as any “reasonable police officer” would, saying that he followed his training from 19 years on the force.

“In this case, the totality of the circumstances that were known to a reasonable police officer in the precise moment the force was used demonstrates that this was an authorized use of force, as unattractive as it may be,” Nelson said.

Nelson also told jurors that prosecutors were wrong to dismiss his theory that carbon monoxide poisoning from the nearby police car’s exhaust and Floyd’s use of fentanyl, an opioid painkiller, may have contributed to his death.

TEEN WHO FILMED FLOYD’S DEATH DESCRIBES EXPERIENCE

One of the first witnesses called was a teenager who recorded the cellphone video viewed by millions worldwide showing Floyd’s death. Darnella Frazier told the jury that when she looked at Floyd, she saw her relatives and friends.

“That could’ve been one of them,” Frazier said, adding that she has stayed up some nights “apologizing and apologizing to George Floyd for not doing more.”

Frazier cried when prosecutors showed her a frame of the video, a moment when Chauvin, his knee on Floyd’s neck, appeared to look directly into her lens.

FLOYD’S GIRLFRIEND TELLS OF ROMANCE, BATTLE WITH ADDICTION

Early on in the prosecution’s case, Floyd’s girlfriend Courteney Ross, 45, took the stand where she told the jury about her romance with Floyd.

Through tears, Ross described the day in August 2017 when they met in a Salvation Army homeless shelter lobby, where they prayed and kissed. She told the jury about how they took walks and dined out.

She also testified about how an addiction to painkillers took hold of their life together.

“Addiction, in my opinion, is a lifelong struggle,” she said.

POLICE CHIEF SAYS CHAUVIN VIOLATED POLICY

Minneapolis Police Chief Medaria Arradondo opened the second week of the trial with 3-1/2 hours of testimony. He testified that Chauvin, 45, broke the department’s rules and ethics code.

“That in no way, shape or form is anything that is by policy. It is not part of our training, and it is certainly not part of our ethics or our values,” Arradondo told jurors.

Arradondo said it was unusual for police to take someone into custody when the alleged crime was as minor as in the case of Floyd, who was suspected of using a counterfeit $20 bill at the Cup Foods grocery store.

CHIEF MEDICAL EXAMINER STANDS BY AUTOPSY REPORT

The second week of the trial ended with testimony from the medical examiner who performed the autopsy on Floyd. Andrew Baker explained to jurors how he concluded that the 46-year-old man’s death was a homicide caused by Chauvin’s actions.

Baker, Hennepin County’s chief medical examiner, said he ruled Floyd’s death was a homicide caused by “cardiopulmonary arrest complicating law enforcement subdual, restraint and neck compression.”

In short, he found that Floyd’s heart stopped beating and his lungs stopped working because Chauvin and other officers compressed him against the road in a way that starved his body of oxygen.

GEORGE FLOYD’S BROTHER REMEMBERS ‘MOMMA’S BOY’

The prosecution ended its case by calling Philonise Floyd, 39, who described growing up with his older brother and three other siblings in a housing project in Houston, playing video games and dreaming about basketball.

The testimony was allowed under a Minnesota doctrine that lets loved ones reminisce to the jury about a crime victim in what is called “spark of life” testimony.

The siblings were raised by a mother everyone in the community called Miss Cissy and who George Floyd doted on.

“He was a big momma’s boy,” Philonise Floyd told jurors.

DEFENSE OPENS CASE, CALLS RETIRED POLICE OFFICER

Lawyers for Chauvin began presenting their case at the start of the third week of testimony by calling to the stand a now-retired officer who pulled over a car in which Floyd was a passenger in 2019 - a year before his deadly encounter with Chauvin.

“The passenger was unresponsive and noncompliant to my commands,” Scott Creighton told the jury, describing Floyd as nervous and anxious during the tense encounter. “I then had to reach in to him because I wanted to see his hands.”

The testimony, accompanied by body camera video of the incident, was intended to show the jury what effects the ingestion of opioids may have had on Floyd.

DEFENSE MEDICAL EXPERT DISPUTES MEDICAL EXAMINER’S FINDING

Chauvin’s legal team called their own medical expert to the stand. Dr. David Fowler, who was Maryland’s chief medical examiner until his retirement in 2019, testified that Floyd’s death was the result of heart disease making his heart beat erratically.

“The more the individual is stressed, both physically and in other ways, the more the demand on the heart is going to increase,” he said.

Fowler also told the jury he believed exhaust fumes from a police car near where Chauvin pinned Floyd to the road may have contributed to the death. Fowler appeared to dispute at least some of what was found by Hennepin County’s chief medical examiner.

USE OF FORCE EXPERT TELLS JURY CHAUVIN WAS JUSTIFIED

Defense attorneys called an expert witness who testified that Chauvin was justified and reasonable in his use of force during Floyd’s arrest, contradicting several prosecution witnesses.

Barry Brodd, a private consultant in the use of force by law enforcement, said Chauvin was following his training, given that he was dealing with a tense and fluid situation.

“I felt that Derek Chauvin was justified, and was acting with objective reasonableness, following Minneapolis Police Department policy and current standards of law enforcement, in his interactions with Mr. Floyd,” he said.

CHAUVIN WAIVES RIGHT TO TESTIFY

Chauvin waived his right to testify to the jury.

“I will invoke my Fifth Amendment privilege today,” Chauvin said in a hearing without the jury present, referring to the constitutional right against self-incrimination.

Compiled by Brendan O'Brien in Chicago; editing by Grant McCool

[jonathantaylorthomas]

Taylor Swift, Entering a New Era, Sticks to a Safe Space: Tumblr

For a megastar approaching the release of her latest blockbuster, Taylor Swift, the human, has been eerily quiet.

Yes, she’s put out four songs and two music videos from “Reputation,” her sixth album, out Friday, and her visage currently adorns a racecar and a promotional fleet of UPS trucks. But Ms. Swift hasn’t given an interview in 18 months, and she has performed in public only once this year, at a pre-Super Bowl event for a corporate partner. (She will be the musical guest on “Saturday Night Live” this weekend.)

Judging by the relatively reserved rollout for “Reputation,” it’s easy to assume that Ms. Swift is pulling a Beyoncé — communicating only strategically, if at all, and mostly letting the work speak for itself. That is, unless you know where to look.

“The general public has not seen much of Taylor, really, in the last year and a half,” said Caitlin Buckvold, 28, who along with her twin sister, Megan, runs a fan blog dedicated to the singer on Tumblr. “But we’ve seen a lot of Taylor. We interact with her on a daily basis.”

At perhaps the most fraught moment in her storied career — after a tense sexual assault trial and amid ceaseless celebrity beefs and internet dramas that threaten to overwhelm the music — Ms. Swift, 27, has recommitted to engaging with her most faithful followers, known as Swifties, cocooning herself in the vibrant, supportive community they have built on the social-media platform Tumblr.

The artist is far from just an observer: Since taking personal control of her official Tumblr page in 2014, Ms. Swift has “liked” some 27,000 posts, stoking hype for her new songs, registering support for fan theories and lyric interpretations and signaling that she remains an ever-watchful eye to her devoted listeners.

Even in an age of unprecedented connection between stars and their public on social media, Ms. Swift goes beyond typical interaction on Tumblr, a niche blogging platform that, with its multimedia flexibility, including images, GIFs and text posts, is conducive to obsessive fandoms. She follows some 5,000 blogs, where users can upload original creations or “re-blog” the work of others with or without adding their own two cents.

While Twitter, Facebook and Instagram have become largely promotional megaphones for the singer (outside of a few sly surprises), she has posted more than 100 times on her Tumblr since October, often re-blogging content from Swifties and adding her own commentary (typically including their first name and a string of excited emojis).

Ms. Swift also participates in inside jokes (ask a teenager about “no its becky”), dotes on pet cats and monitors the life events of her devotees, sending flowers and making breakup playlists for those in need. There’s even a term for her omnipresence on the platform: #Taylurking.

“This is how she knows the pulse of her fan base,” said Nate Auerbach, the former head of music strategy and outreach at Tumblr, who helped Ms. Swift join the platform ahead of the release of “1989,” her previous, Grammy-winning album.

Tatiana Simonian, the current head of entertainment partnerships at Tumblr, said: “She’s just not using it like a celebrity uses it,” and called Ms. Swift “a star who behaves like a fan on the platform — she’s a fan of her fans.”

By tending to her base with such bespoke dedication — and with the looming possibility of firsthand contact — Ms. Swift can breed loyalty in listeners while focusing on positive vibes only. She plucked hundreds of fans from social media to hear “Reputation” early, at Secret Sessions held at her homes in Rhode Island, Los Angeles, London and Nashville.

“Tumblr allows her to focus on the people who matter to her,” said Megan Chesney, 17, who blogs as ohtaylorswiift. “She gets to talk directly to her fans and eliminates all of that drama and excess hate on Twitter or Instagram.”

Ms. Chesney said she joined Tumblr because Ms. Swift did, and the singer followed her page about two years ago. Like most Swifties, she remembers exactly when and how many times Ms. Swift has interacted with her blog.

“It’s, like, crazily overwhelming because it’s just hard to believe that some iconic superstar celebrity decided to take time out of her day to make someone else’s day, even with a single emoji,” Ms. Chesney said in an interview during her school lunch.

Though the Taylor Swift Tumblr was originally set up as yet another online marketing vehicle, to be run by staffers, it was Ms. Swift’s decision to take the reins herself that made it a valuable resource. “Taylor here. I’m locking myself in my room and not leaving until I figure out how to use my Tumblr,” she wrote in September 2014, following in the footsteps of artists like Lorde and Frank Ocean, who were Tumblr users before they were famous.

“The impact was immediate and didn’t taper off,” Mr. Auerbach said, noting that few stars with Ms. Swift’s reach have really dived in and sustained such a presence. “She was learning about herself in the eyes of the fans,” he added. “No one did it like her. She was incredible at it.”

The generous, loose and jocular version of Ms. Swift that fans get on Tumblr can be a far cry from a public persona that some see as meticulously calculated and overbearing. On Monday, Ms. Swift was criticized in some corners after the ACLU of Northern California pushed back against a letter from Ms. Swift’s attorney demanding the takedown of a small-time blog post that linked the singer’s music to the alt-right and white supremacy.

While the ACLU called out Ms. Swift’s “intimidation tactics,” the topic spurred civil discussion on Tumblr. Wrote one fan: “I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you (not your attorneys) publicly denounce alt-right neo-nazis who take it upon themselves to use you, your lyrics, and the imagery in your music videos to bolster their disgusting beliefs.”

But many Swifties ultimately defended the singer. “Have people out there seriously not caught on to how taylor has decided this era to NOT interact with the media?” another user wrote. “She doesn’t want to give in and tell them where she stands politically. She’s done with them. And if she were to say something, we all know she’d still get torn apart anyway.”

Like Beyoncé’s BeyHive, Swifties can be rabid in their allegiance, especially in the virtual presence of their hands-on queen. (“Taylor always says that she sees everything and knows everyone and exactly what’s going on with her fans,” Ms. Chesney said.) This week, ahead of the release of “Reputation,” fans on Tumblr urged one another to be vigilant about reporting leaked music to the singer’s label and management team.

“They’re doing a lot of work for her in many ways,” said Linda Ryan Bengtsson, an assistant professor of media and communication studies at Karlstad University in Sweden. Ms. Bengtsson is currently conducting research on fan behavior across social media, with a focus on Swifties, whom she called “really loyal” and generally “very friendly and positive.”

She added, “They really lift each other and share each other,” often with the goal of reaching Ms. Swift’s field of vision.

“Everyone’s just helping each other out to get noticed by Taylor,” said Ani, 15, a high school student in Hong Kong who blogs as rosegardensthorns and asked that her last name be withheld because of college admissions.

“She followed me back in February and I freaked out,” Ani said. Months later, when Ms. Swift finally reposted a photo from her page, “I definitely cried in the metro station,” she said. “And then I showed my friend and she cried, too.”

Such gestures, executed in a public but largely unseen ecosystem, allow Ms. Swift to do good-natured brand maintenance and outreach without oversaturating a more skeptical general audience.

“She was very ubiquitous for a while there,” said the man behind the analyzingtaylor Tumblr, who writes under the name Matt to protect his professional prospects. “I just think that she knew it was time to not be as omnipresent as she was with 10 magazine covers and five different interviews.”

After all, Ms. Swift, at her best, has always been both sweet and savvy. “I think in 2017, you’ve got to appeal to your most die-hard fans, because they’re going to to do the promotion for you,” Matt said. “It’s a smarter way to go about business.”

[milquetoast-on-acid]

Conspiracy Theory pt.2, A Reactionary Post

I pledge my faithfulness to you in sickness and in health. Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.

Major Crimes | S6xE7: Episode Review I loved this episode so much more than last weeks. The tone of this case fits the tone of the personal stories. Unlike last weeks when the tone was so widely different and was kind of jarring. And with everything that is going on this season the personal storylines completely outshine the cases.

What this episode is about: The Psychological Effects of Rape and Sexual Harassment Vanessa Gus (& Rusty): Was it Consensual or Non-Consensual? Love your life, Sharon Raydor Flynn The Misunderstood Feminist Bonnie Pearl Sharon Raydor Working Families The Landon's The Raydor/Flynn/Beck Family Fidelity & Support: Those that have it & Those that don't | Maternal Love   Andrea & Rusty   Bonnie & Vanessa   Sharon & Rusty | Romantic Love   Rusty & Gus   Sharon & Andy

"There is no reason to say it is there." Even Provenza is getting annoyed with Cami.

"The last person I wanted notified is her Lawyer. No more impromptu press conferences." This is exactly what I was saying last time!

"She had trouble sleeping." "So she texted her attorney?" Andy finishing Sharon's sentence like this gives me life and makes me laugh.

"Your not my type. Your too far over 30." I love how Cami uses Curtis' words and throws them back in his face.

"Oh my god. You guys lie to people even when you don't have to." Nice throw back to the first few seasons when all Rusty said was all the Police do is lie to everyone. And I am never going to be a cop.

"We just can't let this asshole walk out of here." There is one crime that Andy hates above all else and that seems to be rape. He always reacts very strongly to rape cases. Remember what he did to Crolick, who got away after he raped a woman and then set fire to her? He sent Crolick flowers every year on her death saying "Happy Death Day." to remind him that there is someone out there that wont ever forget what he did. It even gave Brenda the idea to send Stroh flowers.

Sharon's shoes I feel like this is another case of Mary wanting to wear her own personal footwear in the show. I get that she's not working right now but man those are some ugly shoes. 

Not to mention these shoes here. I get that Sharon's probably supposed to have swollen legs at this point due to her Cardiomyopathy. But they didn't have to pick some butt ass ugly shoes for her to wear.

The Psychological Effects of Rape and Sexual Harassment

Vanessa

Don't really know much about Vanessa's behavior before she was raped but it had a very serious effect on her. She became rather antisocial. She didn't want any kind of attention directed to her and several of her coworkers knew that she was suicidal. To the point that they thought she'd killed herself and wasn't surprised to hear about her death. 

Gus (& Rusty) Rusty & Gus: Was a Consensual or Non-Consensual? TVfanatic's review of this weeks episode makes a rather interesting theory about what's going on with Gus. IF Gus was raped by Aiden. It might explain some of his behavior. Gus completely taking the blame and telling Rusty not to blame Aiden at all. Often times a victim of rape will take all of the blame of their rape, sometimes thinking that they deserved it. Gus avoiding Rusty. At the beginning of the season, Gus was deliberately avoiding Rusty. This could be because of him trying to deal with the rape.

If it was non-consensual why would Gus tell Rusty that he slept with Aiden? Maybe he's just too embarrassed to admit that it was rape. If it was Rape this changes things completely.

On the other hand... If it was consensual as Gus said to Rusty. Gus' behavior in this could also be explained as guilt over what he had done. Gus wanting to take the blame, because he is the cause of hurting both of them. Gus avoiding Rusty in the beginning of the season could be guilt about what he had done and not knowing how to fix it. 

If Gus did sleep with Aiden. Like he said he did. Then I urge Rusty to not take Gus back. Even if Gus will never look at another man while their together. Trust is something that is completely lost between them. And even if Rusty could forgive Gus one day, he will never forget. On a personal note this is something that destroyed my friend's marriage. My friend's husband swore he'd never cheat again but he did over and over again. And my friend could never completely trust him again. 

"I feel like I'm being bought out for sex it's gross." "And just so you know when I was being bought for sex, I made ten grand. Ever." DAMN there is so much being flung at the other here. Both of them flinging words of bitterness. It's interesting that he would bring up something so closely connected to Rusty's past. Considering that Rusty found out that Gus told Aiden about Rusty having been a prostitute. Which makes me think he never understood that part of Rusty's past.

"I'm sorry if I upset you. I was never very good at making you happy." A nice bit of Rusty being self aware. My how you have grown. Rusty ignoring Gus the way Gus was ignoring Rusty.

Love your life, Sharon Raydor Flynn

Sharon showing up at crime scenes this season is great but it also highlights a part of what Sharon is going through with her illness. Sharon has never shown up this much to crime scenes. Sharon is very dedicated to her work but is not the workaholic that Brenda was. She lets her team do their jobs and doesn't feel the need to stick her fingers in every pie. But I think with this illness creeping up on her, it is really throwing her for a loop.

Andy really is not the only one that's in denial about her illness. She's going to have to take a step back, probaby retirement. And for her to lose her career, something she's fought so hard for, one she loves so very much. A career that is so very much a part of her identity is enormisly hard for her to face.  And so she's pushing herself to be everywhere because of that. As soon as Sharon starts to go down everyone rushes to her side. Amy making it the fastest to her, and is ready to catch her if she faints again. Provenza looks like he's about to have a heart attack.

"I don't need anyone to come pick me up." "Oh no, no no no. I am the incident Commander and I will not have you collapsing in my crime scene. Now, you are over doing it. I will call paramedics. They can be here in ten minutes." Provenza reacts so fast in having Wes call Andy and having Buzz grab her a drink. Considering his reaction to her collapse the last time, for the very reason that he cares so deeply for her he does not want her collapsing on him, again. He's fighting with her here to get her to slow down and rest and is losing the battle. Fortunetly though Wes did follow through on Provenza's order and did call Andy. Who we assume picked her up and droped her off back at home to rest. I love his and Julio's reaction to Cami picking up Sharon's train of thought. Like WTF Cami!? The woman is about to collapse again we don't want her pushing herself the way she seems determined to do. And we don't want to encourage it.

"Sharon Raydor slept in and the world didn't implode." Why do I feel this is as much a knock on us as it is about the characters? About how we won’t explode if Sharon is not in every scene. IMO, that was never the complaint. Much more about quality of scenes instead of quantity. Which we are finally getting. 

The Misunderstood Feminist

Bonnie Pearl "I think Bonnie Pearl was more of a Maternal Figure."

I kind of had a feeling that they were going to go this route with Bonnie. And that she would eventually parallel with Sharon and boy do they ever. Especially with the whole Bonnie & Jerry, Sharon & Jack parallels. Bonnie is a tough go getter, a woman in a male dominated career and it seems misunderstood. Much in the way that Sharon Raydor is. Turns out the woman was very motherly towards Vanessa. Bonnie building a case against Vanessa's rapist really reminds me of that time that Sharon was very deliberate about how she dealt with Daniel Dunn after he beat Rusty. 

My question here is why was Bonnie so close to Vanessa when she wasn't close to her son? What happened there? 

Sharon "Your stronger than you think." Much like with Bonnie Pearl, Sharon was very misunderstood. Introduced into the show as the antagonist, who was not necessarily wrong. And the more that we got to know her, the more we realized we were very wrong about who she was. Both woman project an image of a tough feminist who seems rather uninterested in other's feelings. Sharon's seemingly emotionally aloofness is (in part ) a defense mechanism to protect her rather soft inner core. One that gets attached to people that seem to be emotionally damaged. Because she sees things in them that many others don't. Bonnie and Vanessa are the parallel to Sharon and Rusty.

Working Families

"It's wonderful don't you think, working with your family?" The Landon's

So it seems like Dr Peppy works with his family. I personally wouldn't let Disgusting Jr anywhere near my job. He seems like a spoiled brat who would rather be raging around with his hormones. Dr Peppy seems to be the showmen (and loves it) and Mrs Peppy seems to be the one to manage his time. Mrs Peppy definitely has the gumption to kill.

The Raydor/Flynn/Beck Family

Rusty & Gus "What's going on there?"

Rusty is really taking on some of Sharon's personality. When Sharon asks Rusty about his phone going off and why he keeps declining the calls. He knowingly deflects. And Sharon being Sharon who has to know everything that's going on with her children's emotional well being. Won't drop it. 

"I'm sure that Gus will come around." One thing that I find odd (but also not) is Sharon's reaction to Gus sleeping with Aiden. Sharon has this ability to see the good in people, when no one else can. It is her greatest strength as a person and her greatest weakness. I would think that Sharon would be more pissed off at Gus for sleeping with Aiden and hurting Rusty so badly. But Sharon still seems very Team Gus. I get the feeling that Sharon thinks there is more to the story than what Rusty is being told. 

As odd as this may seem it is very Sharon. This is the woman that didn't divorce Jack Raydor until 25 years after first separating from him. The woman that took in a boy no one else wanted and fought her almost every step of the way until he fell in love with her. The woman that saw a loving father who desperately wanted to fix his relationships with them, when everyone else saw a bitter angry man. 

Rusty Graduates and Sharon laments

Sharon's emotional outburst is interesting for a number of reasons. It was heartwarming, emotional, sad, and with a nice light humorous touch. Rarely do we see Sharon this emotional. Her emotional outburst is a mixture of her happiness of having Rusty graduate college. Happiness of having a partner that she can truly lean on. And fear of losing all of that with her illness. Rusty seemed to be taken aback at how emotional she was over his diploma. I'm not sure he's ever seen her this emotional. 

I also feel like that Sharon and Andy's behavior during this scene was interesting. Sharon putting her used tissue in his hand and him hold out his handkerchief to her was very fluid behavior. Like this is something they have done before and many times. Particularly when the two of them go out to the movies. Andy has to fill his pockets up with tissue for whenever Sharon bursts into tears. He always makes sure to keep one of his pockets empty because she always hands her used tissues to him. 

What I love is that Sharon is so comfortable giving him her used tissue. And that he's so comfortable taking it. And that he's waiting right there holding out his hankerchief, knowing that she's not done and that she's going to need it. Sharon apologizes for her outburst. Sharon you don't need to apologize for being emotional. Both of them understand. I love how Rusty is all, I almost cried myself. And Andy was like you are going through a lot of emotions right now with your illness. You being emotional is completely expected. 

"We'll keep him safe. As safe as a future attorney." "Oh my son, the Lawyer." OMG! We've got two very proud parents of their son! 

"This is the happiest I have ever been in my entire life." First she tells Ricky how her heart is full. And now she tells Andy and Rusty that she's never been happier in her whole life. Season 5b, we got Sharon telling us she's the happiest she's ever been in her professional life. Now we get Sharon telling us how happy she is in her personal life. Once upon a time ago, she never sought out another romantic relationship. Or another child. But both men fell into her lap so unexpectedly. She didn't need them or had any need for them in her life. She was doing just fine on her own. But like in life, people come into your life when they are supposed to. 

She didn't need Rusty but he needed someone to love and care for him. Would anyone ever thought he would have aspired to become a lawyer? She certainly didn't need another romantic relationship. There was already enough drama from her first marriage and life was good as a separated independent woman. While she would have been perfectly fine without Andy. The thing about their relationship is that they have both managed to heal the other. And for both of them to have someone they can lean on for emotional support. Which is a HUGE thing for both of them. 

Sharon's perfect husband loves kissing her hands. We get two of them in this episode!

Love how this scene here ends with the three of them as their little modge podge family.

Fidelity & Support: Those that have it & Those that don't

Maternal Love

Andrea & Rusty

That look that Andrea gives Gus gives me life. She doesn’t even address him. She only speaks to Rusty. Andrea is like Rusty's Aunt who loves and wants to protect him. As soon as she found out they broke up Gus was in the gutter. And I would bet that from that look she knows why they broke up. What I find interesting is that Rusty told Andrea that he broke up with Gus. Once upon a time ago, Rusty wouldn't talk to Sharon about what was going on with him emotionally. Now he's telling stuff to Andrea! I love it. Rusty is growing up and becoming so much more comfortable in his skin and with the people he considers family.  What I also find interesting is that Andrea was telling Rusty that she doesn't want him spending more his time with this guy who hurt him by telling him to hurry up that he's on the clock. 

I am 100% here for Andrea & Rusty Auntship/Mentorship. I love how this season is lowkey showing how much the two of them care about the other. It's usually Sharon that is very sentive about Rusty's feelings. But with the two working so closely now, Andrea and Rusty have really gotten to know each other. Andrea has gotten very protective of Rusty in her own way.

Bonnie & Vanessa It really seems that Bonnie has taken Vanessa under her wing. And was very maternal towards her. Encouraging her to go to see a psychologist and to keep seeing her. Which really makes sense just how emotional Vanessa was after Bonnie's murder. I had thought that Vanessa had something to do with her death (such as her having killed her) turns out that her connection (to her death) was much different. 

I think that a lot of Vanessa's coworkers and fellow members in the lawsuit againest Tackles. Knew how close the two of them were and Bonnie's death could have fueled a suicidal spiral for Vanessa. Vanessa was already suicidal and having someone who was a huge fountain of support just gone. Could have eventually lead her to suicide.

Sharon & Rusty Much like with Bonnie and Vanessa. Sharon and Rusty's relationship is also very similar. Both Sharon and Bonnie 'adopted' a child that was not their flesh and blood. And became a huge support system for them. Both Vanessa and Rusty have suffered sexual trauma's. Rusty for many years, did not deal with his past as a prostitute and his issues of abandonment. Like Bonnie, Sharon encouraged Rusty to talk to a psychiatrist. When Rusty thought that only crazy people talk to psychiatrists. And Sharon finally had to sit him down and stress that a psychiatrist isn't just for mental illness. It is also for dealing with trauma. 

Sharon was a huge source of love, fidelity and support for Rusty. That he was able to adjust and deal with his trauma. And he's turned out into a mature adult.

Romantic Love

Rusty & Gus

Even broken up Rusty is still supportive of Gus. Rusty went as far as fixing Gus' terrible harassment issue by strong-arming Aiden into signing a recommendation letter and giving Gus two months of pay. Gus on the other hand is pissed about it. I get it. It can be shameful and embarrassing. And Rusty has a tendency to stick his nose in where it doesn't belong. But, Rusty however has his heart in the right place. And Gus' first reaction to this is anger and to lash out at Rusty. But he should be thankful that Rusty was able to get that for him. 

Later on he seems to mellow out and he seems to swing from one extreme to other other. Anger at Rusty for sticking his nose in it. And later guilt and sadness and urging at wanting to get back together with Rusty. The thing is Gus was not faithful (as far as we know) nor does he seem very supportive of Rusty these days. 

"What other people?" "Oh do you think your the only guy that Aiden ever hired or promoted for reasons not related to job performance?" From Gus' reaction to this it really sounds like he's got feelings for Aiden. Even back in part 1, when Gus told Rusty 'blame me don't blame Aiden'. Certainly sounds like he's got feelings for the guy (not to mention being completely blind to who he is), like he's trying to protect him from Rusty. Rusty asked Gus if he was in love with Aiden. And Gus never answered him.

Sharon & Andy "Part of loving my life is keeping my spouse happy right now." Andy doing his best to take care of Sharon and keep her happy as well. Slipping her a bottle of water to remind her to take her pills. In a very discriet way in front of Mason, who apparently has no idea the sevritity of Sharon's illness. Mason seems to notice it though. Love the way Sharon takes her pills so very fast. Much like with their romance their totally odvious.

Doctor's visit

I love how this scene starts! Sharon's got her head on Andy's shoulder. Clutching his arm and stroking it with her thumb. She looks so scared about what the specialist is going to reveal about her illness. It is a great scene of vulnerability. Once the doors open however she straightens up and puts on her mask. I really love this because of how much she is physically and emotionally leaning on Andy for support. This is what being married is supposed to be about. Having a partner who will be there for you for the rest of your life. Who will support and love you in whatever you do. And I really feel like this is the first time we are seeing Sharon lean on him like this. It is also a hint of the things that we don't see. In that Sharon is only vulnerable like that with Andy. 

While Sharon does look more put together emotionally after they walk out of the elevator. She does still seem so very uncertain and scared. Andy of course notices this and calls her out on it, thinking it's her illness. He's afraid she may collapse on him. Especially with her scare earlier in the episode. 

It's really interesting that it's Andy that leads them out of the elevator and to the door. Sharon is always the one to walk ahead, she's always confident about what she's doing. She is always the leader carring the rest of the pack. In this instance, Sharon needs him to be strong for her. And he certainly doesn't let her down.

"But if anything were to happen." "Sharon, nothing is going to happen." "No I know but I need to say this. If anything were to happen, please, and please look after my children." "Of course." A few things to note from this conversation. The Laura Roslin illusions are strong and I don’t like it. Parallels to conversation that Laura had with Bill about what kind of funeral service she would want. Another thing is Andy's is still very much in denial. One thing is for sure is that Sharon's life will have to change. Another thing is Sharon's trust in Andy. Sharon could never trust Jack to ever be there for Emily and Ricky. Not when they were married. She can breathe a little easier knowing that there is someone she can rely on to help her children deal with her death. 

Another thing that I just love about their relationship. Or Andy's behavior in their relationship. Is how much of a gentleman he is to her. Always. They say it's the little things that count in a relationship. And Andy is always opening doors for her. Always letting her have the more comfortable seat and in some cases letting her have the only seat. It is such a sweet and loving touch. That has always said to me "I love you so very much, so I will put you first." I love how he still does this and that it didn't stop once they got together. 

"We'll be two injured hearts beating together as one." "Oh my god, that sounds like a bad country western song." I love this. It's so corny but the thing about it is. It gets Sharon to laugh. Which is ALWAYS his goal when his lady is down. I also love how this whole entire conversation changes tones on a dime. First Sharon is talking about her last wishes. Then Andy is trying to lighten the mood and their is so much mirth. And it makes me so happy that both of them are so happy. Just makes me think that the two of them are laying in their bedroom cuddling and giggling about the dumbest stuff. 

“I've been so happy in my life but walking through that door to see yet another Doctor could change everything." "Not everything, never everything." Throughout all of this Sharon is so uncertain about what is going to happen. She's scared and frightened. But she is not alone. And I love how Andy reassures her that their is one certainty in her life and that is that Andy will always be there for her. He will always love her. And that will never change. She will have him for support for the rest of their lives. And that makes it that much easier for her to face whatever is going to happen beyond that door.  

The way that he looks at her when he says "Not Everything, Never Everything." with so much damned love! Andy loves you so freaking much. He will be strong for you when you aren't. He will be here when you need him. He will help you find your way when you are lost. I love all of this so much because Sharon is always strong. She is always the one to guide others. Care and carry them and help them through emotional issues. It is really wonderful to see someone else being strong for her. And who better than her perfect husband. 

Plus there's that whole doors thing again. And this time both of them are walking through the doors. Together.

Speculation: Does anyone else think that Aiden will be back wrecking havit for Rusty?

Vanessa's missing books could be Dr Landon's books but....if Dr Landon is her rapist, why would she keep her rapist's books? 

Vanessa was stunned to keep her from attacking her killer. That certainly makes it easy for a small person or a woman who's not very strong to kill her. Much like there has been a lot of speculation that Dr Landon's wife is the killer.

What I don't like: I don't think I can really think of anything. Well maybe Rusty and Gusty angst is a little too much in this episode. Also Sharon’s casual shoes are butt ugly in this episode. You can have casual wear and still not look like a grandma. 

What I do like: 

This episode was EMOTIONAL AF. Angsty AF, heartwarming and loving. Lots of personal stuff. Just the type of stuff we have all been waiting for. Another amazing Family scene, Another amazing Shandy scene! 

Sharon and Andy’s casual wear to the doctors. Loved Sharon’s dress and Andy looked so much more handsome in that jacket than that grandpa sweater he wore in Sanctuary City pt5.

So much of this episode is about Fidelity. I never realized just how much until I started piecing it together. It's a nice thing to explore after Sharon and Andy just got married. How much Sharon is relying on Andy to be strong for her. And how much Andy is being a great source of strength for her! Mary who once again knocked it out of the park with her performance.