#he hates it when people assume he must be unhappy because he has no sons

[miss-m-winks]

Hi! I'm the oldest daughter in a family of all girls (all afab, though one sisters is now leaning towards nonbinary while still identifying as a girl)

My dad has never ever let the lack of sons keep him from doing all the fun things with us that he wanted to do.

I learned how to fish when I was three years old. One of my favorite toys was a dump truck. Our whole family loves camping and hiking and other outdoor activities. We all know how to throw a ball and we have all worked on fixing the family cars alongside our dad. We have all helped him build and fix things for the house.

The fact that he has four daughters and no sons has never stopped our dad from doing the things he loves and including us in those things. The only time it stopped him was when our church hosted "father son" activities and he was a little annoyed about the lack of father daughter organized activities.

People have teased him about being a girl dad. People have asked if he has a man cave to get away from the girls. He kept getting assigned church roles where he would be in charge of activities for boys and people asked if he was glad to get that role because it meant he could finally do all the boy activities and take a break from his girls.

He hates that. He always shuts it down hard. He has no man cave, he never needed boys under his care to give him the chance to do all the activities he loves. He doesn't feel the need to take a break from his daughters and wife by spending time surrounded by other men and a bunch of boys.

He will spend time with his male friends and his brothers away from us, but not to take a break from us. Heck, when he and his brothers planned out some backpacking trips, his first thought was to ask if any of his daughters wanted to join! And I did go and it was exhausting but fun, just being out there with my dad and uncles. I don't remember why mom didn't join us, I think she just prefers normal camping over backpacking trips.

But the point is, the gender assigned to your child at birth is no reason to avoid doing certain activities with them! If we ever had a brother, he also would have learned to cook and sew, he also would have been encouraged to learn a musical instrument. We all do music in this family. We all enjoy outdoor activities in this family. We all know how to cook in this family.

Gender has nothing to do with it. Get over it. Girl dads, boy moms, it's all bs. The only thing I ever learned from my mom that I couldn't have learned from my dad was the sewing, because my mom loves to sew. It is her artistic outlet. My dad's artistic outlet is music.

And I'm almost 30. My parents were born and raised in the 70s and 80s, they're only a month apart in age. They were raised in conservative small towns and conservative Christian churches. And yet, they still managed to see past the farce of strict gender roles well enough to raise us as girls who enjoy dirt as much as we enjoy dresses. One of my sisters is having a baby girl of her own soon. She is my most feminine sister, and she is also the one who took to car repair the best out of all of us, though her true passion is sewing. I have no doubt she will carry forward the same things we were all raised with, and her daughter will be just as likely to play with a toy dump truck as she will play with dolls.

Get over it. Raise your sons and daughters in equal measure. It's not hard.

cis people will say “I found out I’m having a baby girl at my anatomy scan and I’m experiencing gender disappointment” but be mad when you say “who knows? maybe you’ll end up with a son anyway”

[itsonlystrange]

I feel like a lot of people seem to forget the Mike is the wheelers only son. Meaning he has different expectations than Nancy has and that Holly will have.

Example:

Nancy was always expected (By Ted, at least) to marry in to a good family of her own. Take someone else’s last name.

However with Mike, and with men in general and heteronormativity and toxic masculinity, men are the ones that are supposed to “carry on the family legacy.”

Mike isn’t supposed to marry into a family, a young lady is supposed to marry into THEIR family. The WHEELER family. For a young lady to take THE WHEELER last name.

Nancy was expected to be the house keeper. The cook. The house wife. She bares the children, takes them to school, while her husband is off at work. Following the pattern of Karen and Ted.

However Mike isnt expected to do that. He’s supposed to find a woman that marries into their family. She bares the children while he’s at work.

I do think Karen noticed early on that their son isn’t what 80’s society deemed as normal, not even from a sexuality stand point.

We don’t know much about Ted, but we do know that he is wealthy. He makes “6 figures” (or more) in the words of Jonathan. He was probably in some sort of sport. Most likely popular. Very much similar to Steve.

And well, Mike isn’t.... any of those things.

He isn’t athletic... like at all. Which in the 80’s , was very looked down upon. He isn’t popular, and he’s a “nerd.”

While Ted probably had girls swooning over him 24/7, Mike doesn’t have that. I’m sure Karen noticed very early on that he wasn’t going to continue the Wheeler family in the most conventional way possible. He wasn’t going to get prom king. He wasn’t going to work at an insurance firm, marry a Kathy or a Susan or a Tina and settle down working a 9-5. And that doesn’t even involve his sexuality.

But most importantly, I’m sure Ted noticed that.

There’s often a lot of focus on Will’s relationship with his father (which albeit, is much more front and center.) and how Lonnie often tried to “man up” Will. (I’m not invalidating that in any way.) However, it isn’t very out of character that Ted had very similar concerns and expectations. Definitely on a different scale, but he had them.

No, I don’t think Ted has ever “abused” any of his kids. However I do think he reinforced his expectations in... unhealthy ways. Especially on Mike.

Nancy was (in season 1, but still is.) the “perfect daughter.” She was on the cheer squad. She was pretty, popular (to an extent at some point), good grades, likable, she was doing everything her family wanted her to. She dated the most popular guy in school, and even in season 3, while she is dating Jonathan, she still seems to be doing pretty well. And although she is definitely more independant now, and isn’t following the structure her parents have set up for her (letting the man do the discovering and hunting and all of that, while she sits back as the damsel in distress.) it doesn’t seem like her parents are “disappointed” in her,, or worried about her future. Unlike Mike.

Very early on, I assume, Mike definitely wasn’t the “star son” Ted was looking for. Not the extroverted popular guy, the one who all girls swooned over. I’m sure Ted complained about this and to Karen, and expressed his concerns on why their son wasn’t fulfilling the expectations they set up for him. Instead of star football flayer, he’s a nerd. Instead of a ladies man, he’s well.. not a ladies man. I believe Ted set up these expectations at a very young age. And reinforced them, not in the best ways. He probably tried to in force “manly” stereotypes onto Mike. Maybe even tried to get him into a sport. We see in season 2 that he is forcing mike to “grow up” by giving away some of his toys, because in Ted’s mind, growing up means Mike could finally “man up” which then snowballs in season 3 to Mike feeling like he has to “grow up” so he can “man up” so he won’t be so childish. So he can finally fulfill his parents expectations. So he won’t be such an out cast (which we now know backfires, as he’s in the Hellfire club and will probably be under a lot of scrutiny.)

Mike is aware of these expectations, which only affect his personality and attitude further. I’m sure Ted had ridiculed him on not being athletic enough... failing PE. Not having a girlfriend. Not being very talkative, and when he is talkative having an attitude. Lashing out. Not being popular. Playing board games inside all day instead of going out and playing soccer. And this only affects Mike’s insecurities more.

Mike is insecure that he will never be able to fulfill his parents desires. That he will never be the star football player and valedictorian that all the parents think is phenomenal. And even though Mike hates to admit it, he relies on people, especially his father, for validation. His father very obviously didn’t and doesn’t give him enough love, and his mother, while definitely being more open and caring, can be distant. His family doesn’t give him much attention, which is why he lashes out. He needs attention, and if he can’t get it from his parents, maybe he can get it from other people. Or even worse, he does things, graffitiing the bathroom stall, cussing out people, stealing from Nancy, to get a rise out of his parents. So maybe his parents will notice him, pay attention to him. Ground him, take away his Atari. He may act like he hates it on the outside, but he subconsciously does it on purpose. So he can feel something again. So he can feel recognized. Mike possesses self destructive behavior because of his parents. Because at school, people don’t pay attention to him. At home, people don’t pay attention to him. He’s lost. He’s alone.

And in ways, Mike thinks he’s a failure.

This is where the party comes in.

I think a lot of people seem to round up Mike being against Max joining the party is because he doesn’t want someone to “replace El.” However, while that may be the case, I don’t think that’s all of it.

The reason he didn’t want Max to join the party is because, they are the exact. Same. Type. Of. Person.

Mike was projecting his personal insecurities onto Max because they are so similar. He seems himself in Max. And because he refuses to talk about his own personal problems he will be seen as “more of a freak” he takes them out on Max and ridicules Max for things that he actually ridicules himself for. And also, on a different note. Mike was scared. Scared he’d be replaced. Because his whole life that’s how he was treated. Ted seems to only give out love and praise when it fits his expectations. And when Mike doesn’t reach those expectations, Mike feels like a failure because he is told he is.

Mike is scared of being replaced or abandoned by the Party because he already has been by the rest of his school and his own father.

So Mike was upset that Dustin and Lucas found Max so entertaining, because he was afraid Max would take up his spot in the party. Because although he hates to admit it, she was awesome. Way more awesome than he could ever be. And he saw how cool she was. He felt threatened. Threatened that Dustin and Lucas, and probably Will too, would ditch him for Max.

Max radiates “leader” energy. She has the ability to take charge of a situation when she needs to. She’s cunning. Sarcastic. She can be slick, and doesn’t usually take no for an answer. She’s intimidating.

Mike felt threatened because, well, he is the leader of the party. And he didn’t want this girl to come in and take a hold of that. Because the party is literally all he has. He may act like he has this big ego or whatever, but this is all he has. He’s an out cast. And he needs validation from the party. He likes being a leader, because this is the only setting where he can be one. He isn’t popular, yet the people in the party look up to him. And he likes that attention, the attention that his parents didn’t give him. While Karen and Ted were busy paying attention to Nancy, he was alone. He had no nobody. He still sort of has nobody. But the party is his comfort. It’s his validation, the validation he needs from Ted but doesn’t get. He saw Max’s potentional and was afraid he’d be kicked to the curb. His attitude towards her in season 2 wasn’t because he wanted to be a jerk. It was a defense mechanism.

And the thing is, they really are so similar.

Both have fairly absent fathers. Both are sarcastic. Both are leaders. Both are witty. They are both pretty smart (in different fields.) They are quick thinkers and are both able to take charge of a situation. The reason Mike “hates” Max is because he hates himself. Max is so similar to Mike which makes her an easy target for projection. He both envies her yet holds resentment towards her at the same time.

So Mike’s hatred of Max is because of a few things:

A coping mechanism and fear of being left behind and kicked out of the party because she is the much “cooler” version of him.

And a projection of his true feelings of himself on to her because they are so similar .

Mike has abandonment issues and unhealthy coping mechanisms. But even worse, he has high expectations that he can only meet in unhealthy and unhappy ways.

Mike believes that in order to become a “man” he needs to grow up. That’s something his father taught him. Mike believes that in order to become a “man” he must find a young lady to settle down with. He must settle in life. Work a 9-5. Have a wife that bares children.

Which is why it utterly shocks and scares mike that he can’t even fulfill that expectation either.

When Mike first realizes his feelings for Will, I don’t think he fully acknowledges it. I don’t think he wants himself to. Because he is fully aware that in his fathers eyes he is a failure. And even to himself, he sees himself as a failure. So it upsets him that the one thing, the ONE thing, that he thought he could do to make his parents happy, the one thing that would dig himself out of this hole, the one thing that would make Ted “proud” of him, being straight, isn’t possible for him. It scares him. He’s already messed up this far. He isn’t athletic, popular, talkative. Why can’t he just have this one thing? This one sense of normalcy?

So he pushes it away. I think he’s had these feelings for Will for a long time. In season one, he definitely had them, but didn’t realize or acknowledge them. In season two I definitely think he realized something was up, but just didn’t wanna believe it.

I do think he cares about El, and loves her platonically. However I also think that after he accessed that his feelings towards Will weren’t totally “bromantic.” , he began overcompensating. He pushed Will away in fear that if he connected with Will even more he’d act on his feelings. Now I don’t think he’s fully acknowledged his feelings yet, all I think is that he knew something was up and tried to stop it from flourishing. He was still under the impression that this was a “phase.” That all he has to do is “grow up.” Because he equates straight love with growing up and settling down. His feelings for Will are “childish.” He attempts (and fails) to act like an “adult” or a “man” by saying misogynistic things against El, (like the usual 80’s man would), by regularly using slang like “Man” or “Dude” against Will, which was a first. And calls himself a “7 year old” when he reverts back to talking about getting new toys for Christmas. This boy is reallyyyy trying to push his straight agenda here.

Then, after about 10 months of trying to push this “straight agenda”, by constantly reminding the party that he is in a STRAIGHT RELATIONSHIP. By acting all lovey dovey in front of the party yet never showing that alleged affection to El on screen. (Saying he loved el, came off as if he was trying to impress the party, or further prove he is “straight”, yet not being able to say it back to her. Acting like he’s all in love and crazy for el when he runs off the weather top in s3 e1, yet just going through the motions of making out with El and even taking her hands off of him behind closed doors.) Point is, he barks more than he bites.

Remember how I said this boy needs a lot of validation to function? Yeah well this is where that comes in.

He needs validation that people believe he’s in a straight relationship. He constantly reminds the party that he is and almost seems like he’s really trying to push it. He’s overcompensating. Because he NEEDS people to believe that he’s in a straight relationship so that he believes it himself. Because in his head, if people believe he is then, he is. Nobody knows what they don’t know. They never have to find out about his attraction to guys if he doesn’t show it. And in the beginning it’s paying off well. The party really believes it. But then he messes up big time and it all crumbles down. Very curious if Lucas ever realized how quickly Mike went off in the rain to fetch Will when he couldn’t even call El by phone.

But as I said, after 10 months of this “facade”, El says she loves him back, something he either actually forgot about or lied about forgetting, and kisses him. And then he stands there, and it turns out, all that work, all that time he spent, lying to himself and to the party, didn’t work. He realized that this isn’t just a phase. It’s real. He can’t just overcompensate for this. He cant just pray it away.

Mike, early on, developed an insecurity of not having a girlfriend because of the bullies at school and his father. No girl ever paid attention to him. He was sidelined, and the only people that even really knew his name were the members of the party. He saw how Will got bullied. And he was bullied for similar things too. He saw the aids epidemic spread infront of his eyes. He saw how homosexuals were treated. He didn’t want that to be him. Because he had already failed his parents and their expectations (Atleast in his eyes.) He already failed the kids at school and is seen as a nerd or outcast, why couldn’t he just have one thing that would make him “normal” . Being straight was essentially Mike’s only opportunity to be “normal”, to not be seen as such an outcast, and now that opportunity is taken away from him because well, he isnt straight.

So then El came in and to El, Mike was this warrior. To El, Mike was this strong, charming, fearless ‘man.’ And Mike knew that wasn’t true. He knows he’s just a small town kid that’s a total nerd and a total joke to the kids at school, but El didnt and doesn’t know that. With El, he’s allowed to be something he’s not. And that made Mike happy. Someone gave him attention. Someone didn’t actually think of him as a “failure.” All the girls at school found him repulsive. He had already assumed he’d have to settle for a trophy wife. But El came into the picture and allowed him to appear normal for once.

I do think Mike loves El platonically, but I also think that he subconsciously liked her for his own personal benefits. Lucas said it the best. He liked her because she’s the first girl that isn’t grossed out by him.

He cares about El a lot, that’s undeniable, but he also thought that in El, he saw a chance to be normal. To impress his father who already assumed he was a lost cause. El was his gateway to being straight.

TLDR:

So what I encourage you all to realize is:

Being gay In the 80’s is hard as it is, but mike’s personal complexes and his parents expectations make it extra hard. He feels even more like a failure. Because out of everything, he isn’t straight. He isn’t athletic, popular, isn’t well liked, and he’s disappointed his father, when all he’s ever wanted was to impress his father, and now he knows he never really will be able to.

Mike’s journey in season 4 deserves to be about self acceptance. About learning to love yourself. Mike relies heavily on other people’s validation and attention. So when he isn’t given that attention he lashes out. Mike feels unloved and like a failure. He needs to be the leader of the party because he feels like that’s the only form of leadership he’ll ever have. He likes that in the parties eyes and in el’s eyes, he’s on this pedestal, because in his mind that’s the only pedestal he’ll ever stand on. Mike is full of self esteem issues, anxiety, ptsd, and most likely depression. He deserves to be uncondiontially loved by someone. But most of all, he deserves to love himself and become comfortable with the fact that A. A nerd and shouldn’t be ashamed of his nerdy hobbies and B. He isn’t straight and that’s okay! He needs to learn to accept his sexuality. Season 4 is the deciding season. I believe we will see him go through a lot of ups and downs, and a lot of realizations. But the end of season 3 was very telling as to where his arc is headed.

Mike’s reliability on validation and need for attention leads to unhealthy coping mechanisms. He’s been keeping up this fake agenda of “being straight” and shoving it in his friends faces in order to convince himself that he IS straight and that these feelings for Will are just a matter of “being a child” and needing to “grow up” , which backfires. His father has implemented a lot of these insecurities into his head. He wants to grow up faster than the rest of the party because growing up means finally being a man, which would in turn, impress his father. And impressing his father means he’d be loved by his father. And being loved by his father means getting attention from his father. The attention he has never received. Ted has affected Mike in more ways than most people notice. That needs to be addressed. I hope to see Mike come to terms with who he is. The fact that he’s a nerd, the fact that he is a “freak” and that’s okay, and the fact that he’s not straight, which is also okay.

Mike isn’t a bad character. He is misunderstood and really really just needs a hug.

SUPER SORRY FOR LONG POST. PLEASE REBLOG AS THIS NEEDED TO BE SAID. GOOD NIGHT YALL <3

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 77: Three

The ending is in no way significant of anything at all. Definitely.

First  Previous  Next

Lance comes back in from the gardens with a frosty-furred, very happy wolf cub. Their quarters are still dark, lit only by the crackling fire. “Okay, go find Keith! Come on.”

The cub yawns, walks slow and tired over to the nightstand sniffing Keith’s ignored breakfast curiously. After a varga of play in the frost, Lance is surprised the cub’s got that much left in him.

“Beloved?” Lance gazes at Keith’s curled up form, burrowed into the blankets of their bed. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” It’s not convincing. “I’m just nauseous.”

Keith’s nausea has gotten a lot worse in the last two movements. He’s been skipping breakfast on the regular, and now sometimes lunch. It’s worrying them both that he’s not getting enough nutrients.

Lance frowns, runs fingers through Keith’s hair. “You can tell me if something’s wrong. I can help.”

Keith shakes his head. “I’m just not myself today.”

“Is there really nothing I can do?”

“Just go to breakfast, okay? I’ll be fine... But maybe come visit me later?”

“Of course. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”  That at least earns Lance a small smile. He’ll take it. “What are your plans for this afternoon? Lay here and be sick?”

“Mhm. Maybe play with Wolfy and Bleeps a little bit. Try not to freeze to death.”

“Use your cloak. And mine if you want it.” Lance bends down to kiss his temple. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you so much too- Ugh.” Keith curls tighter around his unhappy insides. “I love you as much as I hate nausea.”

“Trash can’s right here if you need to barf; I’ll send food for you if you want it; I’ll come check on you as soon as I can.” With a kiss to Keith’s cheek, Lance leaves their quarters, hoping he’s not too late to breakfast.

In the dining hall, Lance takes his place, picking food off of platters as servants bring them over to him. As he digs into some flowers with honey, he can’t help but notice his father’s keen eye.

“It’s nice of one of you to join us,” Alfor murmurs. Next to him, Coran rolls his eyes, but says nothing. “Where is Keith?”

“Not feeling well. He’ll eat when he’s hungry.”

Alfor’s ice-blue eyes narrow. “I see. Did he contract something on Daibazaal?”

Lance slows his chewing rate, appearing thoughtful. “Possibly. He wasn’t examined very thoroughly when we returned, and Tavo only gave him two injections. I assume it’s because he’s Galra, so there are fewer concerns.”

“Really?” Coran finds an actual reason to cut in. “Perhaps you should talk to him about a more thorough exam?”

“If Keith has any concerns, he will consult Tavo or his own physician back on Daibazaal. I don’t need to do that for him.” Lance shoves a frost lily into his mouth, licking the sweet floral nectar from his lips. “I have a lot to do today. There’s legislature regarding our colonies that needs to be updated, and I need to have new machinery sent to Arus, which requires a completely unnecessary amount of paperwork.”

“If that’s your way of asking to be excused, you may go,” Alfor murmurs, gaze searing into his son. Lance has gotten pretty good at lying lately. But not good enough.

“Thank you.” Lance wipes his mouth, sips his water, flies from his seat.

“And do tell Keith I hope he starts feeling better soon.”

Lance’s hesitating footsteps tell Alfor everything he needs to know. He tucks into his own breakfast, not looking at his husband.

“Dear… Don’t you do it.”

“Do what?” Alfor whines. “I haven’t even done anything!”

“Ah, but you were thinking about it!” Coran’s dark eyes glint with amusement. “Remember what we were talking about? About minding your own business?”

“Yes, but-”

“But nothing.”

“...But I want him to know that we will be here for him if he needs us?” Alfor asks, hopeful. Trying.

Coran nods slowly, considering that. “Yes, alright.”

“What, really?” Alfor almost never wins when versus his husband.

“Yes. I think he’d appreciate knowing you want to be there for him. And me of course, but I have to speak with Admiral Sonne on Arus to see what the quiznak is going on. If Lance is this stressed about it, I might have to hop over and knock a few heads together.”

“I hate it when you travel,” Alfor sighs, rising from the table, grunting at the pain in his knees as he straightens his legs. Coran follows suit.

“I know, but it would only be for a few quintants. Maybe a movement or two.”

“That’s so long,” Alfor bemoans.

Coran kisses him, sweet and familiar. “You’ll live, my darling. You always do.”

“Well... If you have to go, I guess you have to go.” Alfor tips forward to rest his head on Coran’s shoulder. Their arms wind into an embrace. “We have some fantastic kids, don’t we?”

“I’m astounded every day.” Coran draws back. “I’d best go contact Arus. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Alfor kisses Coran’s cheek, lets him go. His lips fall into a frown, deepening with every tap of his footsteps as he winds his way through the castle.

Lance jiggles his foot, heaves a sigh as he tries yet again to finish his draft. He’s preoccupied, worried about Keith. Aside from persistent morning sickness, he hasn’t been himself the last few quintants. Subdued, quiet- He’s begun isolating himself again, like he did last time he arrived from Daibazaal-

“Lancel.”

Lance looks up, rising from his chair. “Father. Can I do something for you?”

Alfor waves his hand, dismissing formality, and takes a seat by his son. “I want to talk to you about Keith. And what you’ve decided not to tell me.”

Lance’s hand freezes, releases the stylus. He turns to his father. “I beg your pardon?”

“Keith. And his pregnancy.” In hindsight, Alfor would realize that he could have used a bit more tact.

“What about it?”

“You hid this from me. Without any regard of what it might mean or how it might shift our priorities.”

“You haven’t exactly proven yourself to be trusted with the lives of children,” Lance bites, not missing a beat for even a second.

“What’s that supposed to mean-”

“That my husband is afraid of you, and what you’ll do to our children!”

Alfor licks his lips, a trait he’s passed to his son. “I regret what I have done to Keith. His fear is understandable. I would apologize, but I don’t think it would mean anything.”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“Still, I am happy for you. I understand the joy of becoming a father-”

“Father, you didn’t even want children!”

“How can you say that?-”

“Because you waited!” Lance snaps. “You waited until you and Mom absolutely had to have us! I’m not stupid!”

"Watch your mouth!" Alfor barks. "Don't you dare disrespect your mother like that. Or me."

Lance closes his mouth with a snap, shaken by his father's sudden anger.

“Lance, we-” Alfor runs a withering hand through his shaggy hair. “We waited to have you kids because I’m fucking gay! Not because we didn’t want you. I loved your mother, dearly, but it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to father children with her. And, for the record, it wasn’t easy for her, either.”

Lance averts his gaze, sheepish. He hadn’t thought of that.

“I put my hands on your mother, not loving her or wanting her. And she knew it. And she didn’t want it either. But that is the way it is done. So no one can question it, no one can doubt your blood. We did that, to each other, for you . And your sister. So don’t you so much as insinuate that we did not want you. Understand?”

Lance gulps, nods. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry."

Sometimes, Lance still feels like a boy. It’s rare that Alfor’s ire is so well-deserved, and it’s been a long time since Lance has been on the receiving end. He waits to see if his father is finished.

“Now, I wanted to talk to you because we now find ourselves in a potentially difficult situation. Keith’s health is far from perfect. Add to that the burdens of a fetus and the current political climate, what we have uncovered- we need to think very carefully about how to protect you and your family.”

Lance nods, sits back in his chair. “What about you and dad?”

“Not important. You, Keith, and this child are our future. The lynchpin that holds this society together. Were something to happen to you, it’s unlikely our people could recover. But you know that.”

Lance gulps, forces himself to meet his father’s gaze. “Am I- Am I a bad person? All this stuff is happening and-”

“No. Oh, Lance-” Alfor takes his hand, squeezes it tight. “Lance, you are not a bad anything. The truth is, there’s never a good time to start a family, or have a child. The Galra are not the only people who hold a grudge against us, and tragedies and freak accidents happen every day. Why, as we speak, our ships are shifting an asteroid away from our planet so we aren’t destroyed in a collision.

“Let me ask you something. Did you want this child?”

“Yes.”

“Did Keith want this child?”

“Yes.”

“Then this baby will be far luckier than some, just for that. And from what I’ve seen of you, and seen of Keith, and seen of you both together… This child will be blessed indeed. Far better off than you were.”

“You think so?” Lance asks, eyes stinging.

“I know so.” Alfor smiles, squeezing the hand still in his grip before releasing it. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandfather twice.”

“Hopefully, you’ll be a grandfather at least four times,” Lance laughs, sniffling a little, but willing to be happy with his father now that the tension is over.

“Mnh. I know you must do your duty to Daibazaal. So perhaps I’ll be a grandfather more times than that. Your sister doesn’t want more than two children. It may give you and Keith an opportunity to indulge in a larger family, should you so desire.”

“We do currently. I’m curious to see how Keith will feel after baby number one.”

“Very true. Child-bearing is some freaky shit.”

“Seriously. I don’t envy him. I need to get back to him.” Lance sighs. “But right now I need to finish this draft. I never know how to finish off these missives.”

“Oh, that’s the easy part. Summarize what you need done, how you want it done, why it’s important. Three sentences. Then say something encouraging. And then say, ‘Many thanks, Crown Prince Lancel.’ Simple as that. Wash, rinse, repeat until your paperwork is done.”

“That’s… actually pretty useful. Thanks.” Lance finishes typing, sending it along to Adam to look over before it’s passed along to their Admiral on Arus. “I still have all this…” Lance scrolls demonstratively through his list of tasks. “To complete before thaw, but I need to get back to Keith. He’s not himself today. In a different way than normal.”

“What actually needs to be done with it?”

“It’s all crusty, outdated, discriminatory, no longer applicable, or otherwise in need of a rewrite.”

“Why don’t I get started on it and you and Adam can look over it when it’s done?”

Lance hesitates a moment, tapping his stylus on the table. He’s reluctant to entrust policy to anyone else, even Keith, but he has more than one responsibility now. Alfor can do this paperwork. He can't be a husband to Keith. He nods. “Send them to Adam and myself directly. I’ll let him know to expect it.” Lance stacks his tablets carefully on the table for someone to put away for him later. “Thank you.”

“You’re a good man, Lance.” Alfor rises with his son, smile deeply fond.

“Keith says the same thing.”

“He’s a remarkably smart young man. Now, go take care of your house.” Alfor kisses the top of his son’s head. “I’ll send dinner to your quarters if you don’t show up.”

“Thanks. I love you, Father.”

“I love you, too.”

And he actually believes it.

Keith’s not in their quarters. Yet, strangely,  Wolfy and BleepBloop are, Wolfy by the garden doors, BleepBloop glaring at the cub from the loft ladder. Has Keith actually gone outside?

Lance goes to pull his cloak from the closet, and notices that Keith’s is still hanging there. Cursing, he hurries to fasten the heavy fabric under his chin. He should give it a minute to warm up to his body temperature, but with Keith potentially out in the cold, he doesn’t want to wait. He’ll just have to hope it’s good enough.

On his way out, he snatches up Keith’s cloak.

The good thing about the frost is that he can see a set of footprints. The bad news is that those footprints are fading quickly as the frost creeps back up into the frozen moss. Speeding along, Lance squeezes through the gap in the garden wall, following the tracks into the forest. They’re getting a bit more clear, the dulled colors of the mossy forest floor showing through more clearly.

It dawns on Lance quite suddenly where he’s going, and he breaks into a run.

Panting, breath pluming, he skids to a halt outside the grotto where he learned to swim. His foot slips on an icy patch of frost, and he scrambles for a second before his hip hits the frozen ground.

Ouch.

Whatever.

Inside, Keith’s curled up on the icy pond, bundled in an enormous swathe of black fabric. The only thing Lance can see is a mess of long, black hair tumbling over the ice.

“Beloved?” The bundle twitches, curls tighter. “Beloved are you alright? Are you sick? Are you hurt?” A head shake.

Lance creeps over the frosty ground, sitting down next to his husband, throwing the red cloak over his form. Lance gently reaches out to Keith, brushing up against him, feeling what he feels-

A well of homesickness, deep, hollow, aching. Whimpering, Lance curls around his husband, hurting with him but refusing to let him go despite hot tears dripping down the side of his face.

“You know, I-” Lance gulps. “I know how you feel. A little. Remember that night at Thace and Ulaz’ place? I feel like- like I met myself that night. Like for those few vargas, I knew who I was, and I liked that person. But now… There’s no place for that person here. Here, I’m Crown Prince Lancel, and there I was Lance, and there’s no room for Lance here.

“It’s like I lost a piece of me. And lost a piece of us.”

A deep sigh, and Keith rolls over, cuddling closer in Lance’s arms. “I see him every now and then.” The man dredges up a sad smile, lays a hand to Lance’s cheek, brushes his thumb over red-tinted scales. “He’s never really gone.” A long silence, tender companionship. “I’m sorry.”

“You scared me a little bit.”

“Everything is dead here. And it’s all so quiet. Lying there by myself… All I could do was wish you were there with me. Like when we went home, and you were there all day, every day. I guess I got used to it.

“And I miss the red earth, and the afternoon heat, and the moons. I miss them so much. I-” Keith breaks off on a chirp.

“Hey, hey.” Lance pulls Keith closer, strokes his hair. “You’ll see it again, beloved. We’ll go together.”

It’s a few minutes before either speaks again, preferring instead the comfort of touch.

“Sorry, I think I’m just having a mood swing.”

“Your feelings aren’t invalid just because you’re having a mood swing.” Lance kisses his husband’s forehead. "Ready to get out of here?"

"Yes, I'm very cold."

Lance rises first, helps Keith to his feet. "I'm going to come up with a better plan for keeping you company. You're being neglected, and you haven't had anything to do lately."

"You know I can advocate for myself, right?"

"You can, but you don't."

"Right." Keith doesn't argue. He even sounds a little guilty. Lance counts it as a win.

“Where did you get that ridiculously huge cloak?”

“It was Shiro’s,” Keith murmurs. “He gave it to me as a gift when he found me. I didn’t have any clothes, so he gave it to me to cover myself with and help me stay warm. It was the first thing anyone gave me in all that time. The first kindness I’d seen.”

“And you left it behind,” Lance concludes. He knows by now that everything Keith brought with him -himself, his blade, and the clothes on his back- were taken from him upon his arrival. They never found his original clothes.

“Yeah. But now I have it again!” Keith grins. “ I was thinking, since it’s so big, we could use some of it to make a blanket for the little one?”

“Aww, Ke-eith! That’s so sweet!”

Keith hums, pleased by his mate’s enthusiasm. “The Galra used to have this philosophy that kindness doesn’t go back around, but forward. If someone does something kind for you, you’re meant to pay kindness to someone else.”

“I like that,” Lance whispers, swinging their hands back and forth between them. “You know, my father has discovered us. He’s… happy for us. I mean actually for us . Out of all the scenarios I imagined, that wasn’t one of them.”

“I’m glad you two are getting along better.” It’s a white lie, one Lance appreciates.

“He seems… excited. Like he’s really looking forward to being a grandfather. I’m really looking forward to getting to know my father, and watching him grow.”

Keith smiles. “You’ve been waiting a long time to have a relationship with Alfor, huh?”

“So long,” Lance breathes. “Obviously, I’d never allow him to do anything to endanger our child, but I really, really hope I never have to face that.”

Keith leans over to bump their shoulders together. “I hope so too.” He smiles. “You’re going to be an awesome father. I hope he gets to see that.”

“Thanks, beloved.”

The winter's silence falls around them, but it's not quite so crushing, so lonely anymore. There's two sets of footsteps, the warmth of a second body.

“Lance?”

“Yes?”

“I actually do miss Daibazaal. And how we were when we were there.”

“Me too. We’ll go again. As soon as we can.” Lance throws his arm around Keith’s shoulders after the squeeze back through the garden wall. “After all, little one’s gonna have to see where their daddy came from, right?”

“Definitely. I want them to be proud of what they are, Lance.”

“Absolutely. Hybrid children are the future. And we get to create that. It’s gonna be beautiful. I can’t wait to see it.”

“I can’t wait to share it with you,” Keith whispers, gazing at his smiling mate.

It’s time for the turning of the age.

[mahsamarauder]

16 years

It had been years since Lily had seen James. 16 years to be precise. 17 years ago Voldemort came into their house and killed Harry, which killed himself as well. A year after that Lily and James finally gave up. That year was the most painful time they had felt in their entire lives. At first they comforted each other, they were the only ones who truly understood. But after a while they started fighting. The Potter household was not a happy place anymore. Vases flew around the house and plates were thrown on a daily basis. They had become so unhappy that they had gotten a divorce. Now, nearly 16 years later they both here, at Rumus’ wedding to Sirius’ cousin. Lily had gone off to France after the divorce. She couldn’t bear to be in England. It felt empty and sad. With the people who knew how her son’s death had ruined her marriage in every corner, she felt so desperate that she went to France. She supposed she always wanted to go there but then again, not like this.

James Potter had not seen his ex-wife for 16 years. He thought she wouldn’t come. He was sure that she hated him enough not to come the same country as him. Isn’t that why she left? He went to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn’t know why but he wanted to look good. He supposed it was a habit, wanting to look good for her. He had strands of grey in his hair. The hair he loved and admired so much when he was young. Now it was lying flat on his head because of the sleazy hair potion but it used to be messy and standing up in every direction. Surprisingly he had had the grey hair since he was 22. Harry’s death hit him hard. And then the divorce…..Well it was enough to age him a few years in advance. His eyes were tired and sad, the glint of mischief completely gone. He had dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t been able to sleep much. The nightmares kept awake at night. The nightmares weren’t just about that night when…..They were usually Harry all grown up and handsome, telling him that he didn’t do his best to save him. That it was James’ fault that Harry was dead. Besides the nightmares, he didn’t leave much time for sleep either. He was head auror and kept himself so busy sometimes he would be at work for more than 48 hours. He drowned himself in his work after Lily left. He lived at Potter manor alone. He did not have the heart to live in the house he was supposed to live in with his wife and son. Sirius lived in his own flat. He kept visiting James but he didn’t live with him. After the divorce, James had made very clear that if Remus and Sirius take pity on him and come to live with him he will kill them. So that’s why no one could make James eat more than three bites or make him come back from work or even make him go to sleep. He didn’t have wrinkles yet but he knew that soon they would join in. James was living his worst nightmare for the last 17 years and he knew wrinkles were the least of his worries. A man of 37 would look so much younger than he did but when you have little to live for you don’t really stay young and cheerful and perky. His purpose of living was to make sure Sirius doesn’t kill himself because of depression. He was told the beat the way to get better was to marry and have kids again. But every time he tried to talk to a girl he would hear Lily’s voice: “James, by Merlin, if you ever cheat on me I will cut off your testicles. I promise.”

Even though they were divorced, he felt like he was cheating on her. He knew when he still loved her he couldn’t go out with any other girl. He knew until he was over her, even flirting felt like cheating and wrong. And on some level he knew that Lily was the only one, that no matter what he did, it will never be over. And it wasn’t fair to any girl to be his rebound girl. So he gave up. Then he considered adoption and he still regretted the fact that he had EVEN considered it. He had wanted to go and see little andy one day, but the night before going, he had had a dream. It was Harry. He was all grown up. He looked at James with a face like his own but with Lily’s eyes. He looked at him and said:

“Are you replacing me?? How can you? After I die, you try to replace with another boy???”

And that was the end of it. The reason he never moved on. He ruffled his hair but it stayed flat. The potion was really good apparently. And then he smiled sadly at himself.

Lily went to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. She knew James was doing the same thing. She saw him go the bathroom and she knew him well enough to know what he was doing. Her hair was thin, so very thin. It wasn’t the thick, wavy beautiful Auburn hair she once had. It was now thin, almost straight and not very beautiful and it looked more brown then red now. It was like that even her hair dreaded being alive. Her eyes did not shine or smile anymore, they were dead and sad. And she looked 43 instead of 37. So that was that. She had tried to move on but no man could be James. James who doted on her every move, James who chased her for 7 years, James who would gladly walk the gates of hell with her, James who loved her even before he knew what love was, James who made her laugh when she was crying, James who she loved with all her heart. Of course no one could be him. She had tried, she really did but no matter how dates she went on, there was never a second date.

James was her standard. Men were nothing compared to him. Lily had tried to adopt a baby or use a sperm donor but she couldn’t. Every time she came close to doing so, she felt like she was betraying Harry’s memory. After her divorce, she had moved to France and had started working in a hospital. She was a head healer now. But she wasn’t happy. How could she be? But she had survived, somehow.

One last look in the mirror and he thought why did he agree to the divorce when he knew how miserable he would be? On elook in the mirror was enough for Lily to ask herself why had she suggested the divorce when she knew she was never going to be happy without him?

Because we kept fighting. They both thought at the same time.

But why? They asked themselves.

Because we missed Harry and anger was the easiest emotion to let out.

They both headed outside, deciding that they shall be nice to each other.

They went to the ceremony and sat in first row, seeing as Remus had no family and James, Sirius and Lily were closest thing had to one. James sat at the beginning of the bench than Sirius than Lily. There was space between Lily and Sirius and they didn’t talk. After that, they all went to the reception. Remus and Tonks came and Lily went to talk them after the first dance.

“Oh Remus, Dora, it was a lovely service. Congratulations.” She kissed Remus’ cheek and gave Tonks a tight hug.

“Thank you. Where is your plus one?” Remus asked.

“Well, I didn’t bring one.”

“Oh. Is there a reason?”

“No. It’s just no one seemed……..you know what? This is your wedding. Let’s stop talking about my love life. It feels as if all we’ve ever talked about was that!”

After that she sat down at the table, looking at the couples dancing and smiling. She smiled sadly and remembered her own wedding. She was thinking when she a hand extended in front of her.

“May I have this dance?”

Lily looked at the man in front of her. She smiled warmly at Sirius.

“I thought you’d never ask!”

As they danced, Sirius started talking.

“How is France?”

“Not so bad. It’s lonely but I’m used to it.”

“Lonely? You’ve been there for 16 years! How is it lonely? Haven’t you made any friends?” He twirled her.

“I have but they are not really close and I don’t mind. I don’t trust anyone enough to have them as my close friend. Trusting is proving much more difficult than I expected.”

“From what you say about trusting, I assume there is not a man in your life either, correct?”

“Well yes, but not for that reason. You see I tried dating but none of them made it to a second date.”

“Why not?”

Lily smiled but the sadness was visible in both her smile and her eyes. “James. The bloody prat practically ruined everyone for me. No matter who they were or what their traits was, they were always nothing compared to him. There was something they lacked that he had. He has become my standard, a standard no one can ever reach.”

“Merlin knows he would kill to hear those words.” Sirius laughed.

“There was time he would have done so, yes, but not now.”

“Oh Lily, you never change, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You sound like seventh year.”

He started imitating her voice.

“Oh Sirius, give up. James doesn’t like me like that anymore. He just wants to be friends.”

“Well that’s rude. What gives you the right to imitate me this poorly?”

“I did it fantastically and since I was trying to prove a point, I had a right.”

“And what point is that, pray?”

“That no matter what you do, where you are or what you say, James Potter will always be in love with you and that will never change. Not in seventh and definitely not now.”

“Don’t be stupid, Sirius. It’s been 16 years.”

“And you think that’s enough time to get over you?” He smirked at her and started clapping because the dance had ended.

“I should think it is.” Lily shouted as she saw Sirius moving away without even listening to her. She scoffed. The bastard was exactly the way she left him: rude, considerate, kind, loyal, sometimes mean and brotherly. She sat down. She was rather confused after that conversation. Did James really….? No. She shouldn’t. She would destroy herself thinking about that. He had moved on. He had brought a plus one. He must have a wife and a few black haired devils.

She was walking when she heard a girl talking to her friend loudly.

“See James Potter? He is still as hot as he was in Hogwarts, isn’t he?”

“Well he has gotten a little bit old. He was a few strands if grey but yeah still hot.”

“I cannot belive he is still single. No wife no kids.”

“Well maybe he’s waiting for 21 year old girl like Remus did.”

“Maybe. Hey! maybe we can get a one night stand out of him tonight.”

“Oh no I work with him and believe me you won’t.”

“Oh damn it.”

No wife? No kids? He hadn’t moved on either? Now that was something she hadn’t expected. She couldn’t believe that James was single. After all this time? She went outside and looked at the beautiful summer sky. It was so beautiful. All the stars were visible. As she was looking up a man’s hand went up to the sky to point to something next her head. She didn’t need to turn her head around to know who’s hand was beside her.

“That’s Sirius.”

“Merlin. I’ve been looking at the stars all night trying to find it.”

“You always did.”

An awkward silence filled the space between them.

“How are you?” James asked.

“I’m alright. You?”

“Yeah. I’m alright too.”

“Wouldn’t your date worry about where you are?”

“I’ve got no date. Wouldn’t your date worry about the fact that you’re talking to ex-husband?”

“No. Since he doesn’t exist, I don’t think he minds.” She smirked.

“Always so bloody cheeky.”

“I thought you liked it.

I did. But that doesn’t mean.....Lily what are you doing?”

She had her hands in his hair so suddenly he was completely and utterly shocked.

“It’s true then.”

“What’s true love?” Damn it. He hadn’t meant to call her love. It was out of habit. She would kill him.

“Your hair, it has grey in it.”

He smiled sadly. “With a dead son, a divorced wife and a very busy auror office can yoo blame me?”

“No. No I can’t.” She ran her hands through his hair and it slowly lost its stiffness and become messy. She suddenly realized what she was doing and dropped her hands. They started walking side by side.

“So how’s Sirius?”

“Well he’s alright I gusse.”

“You gusse?”

“Yeah well we’re not as close as we were.”

“Why not???” It was true that Lily Potter was surprised. These boys were always together. What had happened?

“Well after you left I kind of kept distance with everyone. I do go to the full moons and stuff but......we’re just not ss close as before.”

“I see.”

“So any friends in France????”

“Yes. Only one. We’re not really close. She likes her last name and has asked me to call her miss Bunnting so you can see how close we are.” She laughed lightly. “She calls me Mrs. Potter”

“Mrs. Potter????”

“Yeah I didn’t change my last name.”

James stopped in his tracks. He turned to his side and looked at Lily. Lily slowly turned he head in his direction so that they were facing each other.

“Why not?”

“I think you know why.”

“Lily...”

“James, I’m so sorry for all the trouble I caused you, the sadness, everything. I’m so terribly sorry. I......”

“It’s my own fault too. I was so drowned in my own sadness that I didn’t realize that I’m not angry at you and you’re not angry at me. We were just frustrated and sad and the easiest way to free ourselves was to yell and shout and scream and throw stuff. I should’ve fought for you instead of just letting you go.”

“I should’ve thought harder before I asked you for the divorce.”

“I gusse we both made mistakes then.”

Lily was silent for a moment. She looked into James’ hazel eyes but she didn’t see the spark that used to be there.

“When did you regret it James?”

“The moment I signed. You?”

“Same.”

“Life’s funny huh????”

“Really funny!” She sighed deeply.

When they got back inside, it was the last dance. The song was the “Sleeping Beauty Waltz”. As Lily and James danced around the ballroom to the song the hit married with, they kissed. The kiss was tender, sweet and short. As Lily looked into James’ eyes she found she was the happiest she had felt in a long. James’ eyes shined with a glint of mischief and love. His sad and tired eyes looked happier. His hallow cheeks that begged for more food were gone and the dark circles had suddenly disappeared. He was grinning. The 37 year old tired man was gone and the 21 year old James Potter was back. He looked liked he was he was on the moon.

James’ eyes found Lily’s and he was overjoyed. Her green orbs were smiling. Her face looked younger and her hair was somehow shining. Lily hugged James and slowly danced with him.

It took work and patience because no couple can get back together for the sake of only one night. It took one year and many cries, laughs, screams and kisses but after a year Lily and James went to the ministry and got married. They only asked Sirius, Remus and Tonks to be there. They didn’t need anything else. Six months after that they discovered that Lily was pregnant. They both wanted this. They both decided that having a child was not betraying Harry’s memory so they had decided to get pregnant right away because Lily was not getting any younger. Lily gave birth to twins. Emma Lily Potter and Ethan Sirius Potter.

They were both a mixture of James and Lily. Emma had Lily’s flaming hair and nose and James’ deep hazel eyes and horrible eyesight. Ethan on the other hand had the same messy black hair and the same eyes as his father. Only thing he had that was like his mother was his manner of speaking.

Five years after that Lily was surprisingly pregnant once again with a baby girl. She was named Felicity Rose Potter.

The Potter household would always send their childer away on Halloween. Lily and James mourned the loss of their first child every year. They would go into Harry’s nursery and cry for the little boy they had lost. It was ritual. It went on for many years. Until one day, Lily Potter found herself stumbling towards that room without her husband.

The kids were all grown up and had jobs now. Ethan and Felicity were married and both worked for the ministry. Emma was a professional quidditch player and was engaged. Ethan had had a four year old son named James and Felicity was pregnant.

However, even though Felicity had told her the good news that morning, Lily was not happy. This was the first Halloween she was spending alone as James had passed away seven months ago. She started humming “good old-fashioned lover boy” by Queen band. James loved this song. He always said that song was about him and Lily always laughed when he said that.

Lily thought about all those years of fun and happiness. It was 2036 and Lily Potter was tired yet she still mourned her son after 55 years. She was 76 now and so tired.

Sirius was dead. He had died on a mission about ten years ago. It almost finished James.

Remus was also dead. He died about twelve years ago. He was seriously hurt during one of his transformations and when he was found it was too late.

Tonks was aloof and distant and only talked to Teddy.

Lily had no one left. She sat down by the crib and let her tears come as she hummed the melody. She kissed the crib and closed her eyes and fell asleep.

After 76 years of hard work Lily Potter finally fell asleep. After 55 years that night as she closed her eyes and drew her last breath peacefully while asleep, she saw her son.

Lily Potter finally saw her son!

She saw her best friends and brothers after twelve and ten years. She saw her husband after seven months. She saw them and knew that she was finally at peace.

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will always hold you close

But I will learn to let you go

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

With every heartbeat I have left

I will defend your every breath

And I'll do better

[tenmillionwhumperflies]

Cloudwalker Series: Mouse the Dragon

Alright, so here is Mouse’s little origin story... thing, because Mouse is precious and deserves all the loves. Oh, and you can meet Azeera, another sorcerer boi.

Drawing of Mouse Here

Warnings for mentions of death, grief, mentions of slavery, ‘animal’ cruelty (contained in a very small space).

Word Count: 1700

Tag List: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

Orrien hated busy places, he hated the noise, the stall owners drawing attention to their produce, the chatter of so many people, the chopping, the grinding, the sound of animals. He hated the mix of smells that didn’t go together at all, fish and cinnamon, fruit and dung.

He hated the heat, the buzz, the way he had to bustle past so many people that just didn’t even notice he was there. He kept his cloak pulled up high, hoping to keep his tattoos hidden. No one could know he was a sorcerer. It was dangerous. They’d assume the worst, that he’d escaped or was going to start an attack on behalf of a kingdom. Sorcerers were not simply free, certainly not in his land anyway.

He kept his head down, buying what he needed to get by until he could travel to the next kingdom. Always searching, desperately looking for a new purpose now that he had lost his only son, and the man who had loved his son had turned to darkness and death. Orrien needed time before he went back to the Red Hills, back to the land he’d been born and raised on.

“Mama, look over there!” a child cried. Orrien turned quickly, thinking perhaps they were looking at him. He heaved out a breath of relief, seeing she was pointing at a small market stall. The mother ushered the child away from whatever it is they had seen. Orrien couldn’t help but approach the emptier area of the city. Something drew him towards it and didn't fight the urge to follow. He saw the owner of the stall was a cloaked man. Orrien couldn’t see his face, but he knew enough about him already. He had light magic, Orrien could feel it, but that didn't necessarily make him a friend. 

Orrien pondered speaking to him, to find out who he was, but he was distracted by a strange tink noise. He turned his head to see a very small jar on the table, and at first Orrien thought it was a small lizard. He stepped closer, seeing that its grey skin was actually metal. He picked up the jar with care. The cloaked figure grunted, but that was all.

Orrien inspected the jar with more care, seeing that the small dragon inside looked incredibly scared. They were so small, only the size of his middle finger. They clawed at the metal with one foot, but the jar was so small they could barely move. They stared at Orrien with wide eyes. He felt so drawn to them. He couldn’t leave them trapped like this. It was cruel. It could kill them. Besides, a small companion like this would likely do him some good. He turned the little paper tag attached to the jar. Enchanted dragon, 100 pieces.

"A trinket has caught your eye, sir?" The man asked. Orrien recognised the voice somewhat, but he couldn't put a name to it. "Some 'trinket' for one hundred… You can’t put a price on a life, enchanted or otherwise. You know no one will ever buy such a small charm for so much. Distress them for too long and they will lose their magic. Why push for so much money?” “The enchantment on this dragon is... immense. They were made with incredible power- from love and care. They are practically alive with their own personality... My greatest work. They deserve a loving home, but are you worthy?"

"Money and power does not equate to kindness," he hissed. My greatest work. Orrien hoped he’d put the voice to the right face, and the fact that the dragon was enchanted. Reluctantly, he eased his hood back a fraction to show his face, his tattoos. "You of all people should know that. You say they deserve a loving home, but you treat them so harshly," he grunted before putting his hood back. "Trapping them like this. You should be ashamed… Azeera." The man carefully moved his hood away, showing bright green tattoos on either cheek, a sharp contrast on his dark skin. Orrien had been right after all, and his relief must have showed. He belonged to the Sorcerer's Circle, one of the eight. His enchantment magic was impressive.

 “Correct, though it seemed to take you a while, Orrien of the Red Hills, high sorcerer of the Kingdom of Everblade." He remarked. “Former,” Orrien corrected glumly. There was no kingdom left to serve, not that he’d ever enjoyed serving that wretched man. “Indeed. Word spreads fast. But here you are, in front of me, as I’d waited and hoped. Fate always finds a way, doesn’t it? In truth, I thought you were dead."

“Why would you think that?” Orrien frowned. “Well, the last I heard of Everblade, it was being called Everblood and had fallen. I wasn’t sure if your apprentice had turned on you also.” Orrien sighed. “That castle was so low it could not have fallen any further… Avizon has chosen a darker path, but he would never turn on me.” “Then… tell me, where is your son? Are the rumours true...” his voice faded off. Orrien looked away and kept his eyes on the dragon that was now headbutting the glass with a repetitive tinking noise. “He is… he’s gone. Avizon told me the king killed him while he rested from wounds gained by protecting the castle. That is why Avizon rebelled and attacked. I was a coward and left him. I wasn't going to stop him after what Halve had done, but nor could I stand by him…"

Azeera sighed and bowed his head. “That is indeed a terrible thing to hear, but this was Avizon’s path to walk, his destiny. Fate always finds a way, even if you had stayed behind. I don’t know how Ignium will feel about the whole affair, but I shan't be the one to tell him.” “Perhaps, but what does my son have to do with buying a dragon?” Orrien asked. "And if I may ask, why are you here? Are you not still serving Queen Daphne?”

Azeera shook his head. “Not all of us were kept on as short a chain as you, you know? I was allowed to leave the grounds, but alas, no. After… Everblade, the queen decided against magic defences, despite my years of unwavering loyalty. Royals are realising we are powerful, dangerous, and most importantly, unhappy. Her focus is on the army, on a group that won’t risk so much if one loses control. She did not care for the reasons why young Avizon turned on the castle. She reflected and I believe she feared his actions would influence me. She released me peacefully, no quarrels, and gave me a home to try to keep me from turning bitter. I consider it early retirement, and really you can’t consider freedom to be a punishment. So here I am, selling trinkets to pass the time."

"I see. For what it is worth, I am sorry for Avizon’s actions. I should have been able to do more to stop this.”

Azeera shrugged. “It is a difficult situation, but when I saw Avizon after you saved him… I didn’t expect him to turn to violence, but I cannot say I’m shocked. What Halve did to him was beyond human.” Orrien shuddered, he needed a change of topic. “So what is this fate you speak of?"

"Ah, yes, that. Orrien, I don't think he told you, that it was a surprise but your son saved my life only days before the attack. I offered him a favour in return.” Orrien looked back down at the dragon and stared. Was he leading to what he thought?

Orrien continued to stare. When he stared in the dragon's eyes, he could see their pleading. They dug at the glass desperately, but it was so cramped it barely equated to anything. It bit at his own tail, but it didn’t seem to damage itself at least. Did he imagine it, or was there a familiarity? All he knew was that he couldn’t leave them. His heart told him that he needed this little one. He gritted his teeth. Orrien pulled the cork out of the jar, ignoring Azeera’s grunt of a protest. The little dragon scrambled out and hid in Orrien’s palm. He opened his hand just enough to stroke their head. They seemed so much more relaxed now they had access to magic, that they could move.

“The only way to contain them was to take away their mobility. They’re quite the trouble maker and an escape artist. They had started with a very comfortable abode,” Azeera explained with a soft grumble. Orrien put his hand up to his shoulder, letting the dragon climb onto him. They hid behind Orrien’s ear, chewing nervously on it. Orrien couldn't help but brace to have to argue or fight, to have to run away and get to the horse, out of habit more than anything.

“You're tired and on edge, old friend. I can recommend you an inn or offer space in my home to rest? That little dragon is meant to be yours. They were the favour Ro asked of me. They were to be a gift… for you. He poured his heart and soul into helping me make it… After seeing what happened to the castle I left before I could give it to him. I assumed they would be forgotten about, that you were dead, and so I put them up for sale for a good home. Fate had other plans. Your son’s love drew you here.”

Orrien bit back tears. He had not expected anything like this. For Ro to have left him something so... pure. The dragon began to slide down the front of Orrien’s cloak, so he put his hand out as a platform. “My debt is paid, the offer of rest is still there? The inn is the Crooked Key. It is welcoming of our kind and my home is just around the corner."

Orrien nodded. "Thank you, for everything you have done for me."

Orrien bowed his head and left, cradling the little dragon in his hand. “You’re so quiet… so small, like a little mouse.” He stopped and smiled. “Yes, that will be your name. I think it would have annoyed Ro just as he’d have wanted,” he smiled softly. He scratched their back, enjoying  watching the dragon weave through his fingers and arch their back like a cat might.

“To get a favour from a sorcerer as powerful as Azeera and ask only for a trinket for your father… Oh, Ro, my poor boy… This world was not made for one as pure as you.” He forced himself to take deep breaths, to calm before he let the dragon back onto his shoulder and disappeared into the choking crowds.

[anonniemousefics]

My Dearest Inej | Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Masterlist

Originally posted on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up

Synopsis: A series of letters kept among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

Chapter Fifteen: No Parlay For Cheats and Cowards 

Inej,

Haskell’s asked me to deliver this message to you to request a parlay. He and his crew can’t maintain this tenuous hold on the Dregs while Kaz still lives, and he knows you want to make it back to the Wraith.

I would like you to know that, while we all appear as faithless as Haskell wants us to look, many of us still back Kaz Brekker. If it’s a fight you’re planning, I have names to add to your numbers.  

Anika

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

Anika,

You tell him this. There will be no parlay for cheats and cowards. I have no intention of bargaining. If he can come out from behind his poisons and small children, he can fight me for Kaz. I’ll even let him name the time and place. That will be the last of my generosity.

Can you get a message to Specht on the Wraith for me?

Inej  

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

Specht,

There has been a coup attempt on the Dregs, led by Per Haskell’s bastard son and his lot of cronies, and we are pinned down in the warehouse district. Kaz has been gravely hurt and must be moved from the city. I need your help getting him to the Wraith. I will be sending Wylan with him to look after him. Wylan is not going to like it, but he is the one I trust to continue to administer the medicinals the medik has left with us. You must make sure he goes anyway.  

The risks: Assume the Wraith and Fifth Harbor are being watched. I have been informed that our enemies have placed snipers all over the city, awaiting our movements.

However, you can trust Anika. I need the two of you to find us a route to the harbor, the sooner the better. Jesper and I will be staying behind to meet with Haskell. Send reinforcements.

Inej

P.S. – There will also be a small dog in tow. I know. Don’t ask. Just be prepared to try to keep it quiet. It’s weirdly important to everyone.

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

Captain,

We have mapped our route. Anika can guide your route to the shore in the warehouse district. I will take a rowboat out to meet you at the hook in the coastline, 4 bells before dawn. According to Anika’s recon, it must be then -- no later, no earlier.  

I have sent word into the city to call in the crew from their R&R. We will be ready to stand with you tomorrow.  

Specht

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

My dearest Kaz,  

I couldn’t wait for your permission. I couldn’t wait at all. I hope that you will understand when you read this. I think that you will.  

I keep thinking of when we were younger, so much younger, and you were helping me practice with the knives. I kept nicking my fingers, and they hurt like hell. I remember so clearly the first day I wanted to call it quits, when every one of my digits was slashed and bleeding. You didn’t even flinch. You smacked the knife from my hands with your cane, looking like a grumpy old man trapped in a teenager’s body. “Self-pity is a useless distraction,” you told me. “Self-pity gets you killed.”

I do feel sorry for myself. My love, I feel sorry for you more. I know this means you will wake up far from home, and you may hate me for it. But it would have killed us all to stay here because of it.  

I love you. I will come for you when I can, and I will write when I can until then.

Your Inej  

P.S. – Pat Ambroos for me. He’s been the very best boy.

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

(written at the top: “Specht: Please read to Wylan”)

To my very favorite human being,  

I’ve said it before, and hopefully this won’t be the last time I say it. But just in case this thing goes sideways, I’m writing it down for you, which I recognize is not the kindest thing to do to you, but we both know this isn’t the first time I’ve been an insensitive ass. I’m just trying to make something a little bit right out of this awful mess. You are so well-loved, Wy, and if the worst happens, there are so many people who can read this to you again and again (which is, obviously, how my last words ought to be treated regardless, whenever they happen to occur).

The last few years with your stupid face have been the best years of my life, far better than any I deserved. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Wylan Van Eck. You are truly the reason I’m going in pistols blazing today. I will fight til my last breath for the chance to have our life back the way it was: just you and me, fighting over the pile of dirty clothes on the floor and who’s going to take Ambroos out next. (It’ll be me this time, I promise. And probably several more times after that. I know I'm going to have some making up to do.)

I know you’re going to be very unhappy when this is read to you. I’m very unhappy writing it. This is complete bullshit, but I am hopeful that it’s bullshit that we’ll be laughing about someday. Maybe. Fingers crossed.

I love you more than words can say. I love you so much I just keep using stupid clichés because sometimes, even after all these years, my brain just stops working right around you. Thank you for that, and for loving me, for the best years of my life. Let’s have lots more after this, ok?

With every bit of my dumbass heart,

Jesper

[calypsoff]

Thirty Four. Part 2

Staring at my plate, I don’t even want to eat so why did I say yes. I do that a lot; I say yes, and I don’t want it. I didn’t even want her family here, like she didn’t even tell me her mother is here just looking at me like I am shit, like I can’t do anything. I am literally useless, and I am here in Cali on my own, I don’t want it and I don’t want the food “thank you for this, I will try and eat it later. I am not hungry” wheeling myself back from the table “ignore him, he is being a child. Let him go on his own” Robyn said, I cringed at the baby crying. Rolling myself away from the whole kitchen, I just need some air. I have been like this for so long, and Robyn assumes I care what she wants and feels. I don’t care, shit is driving me crazy. All I do is sit; my body is sore from sitting. I hate that I am being picked up by some man, I look like a an invilid and it’s all because I had to be there when her crazy stalker came, I am fed up. My phone started ringing in my lap, my dad is calling. My dad has seen a lot, I am a grown ass adult, and he is done everything for me like a child. Stopping in the living room, answering the call “son, you didn’t call me when you got there? Is everything ok?” my dad sounds concerned “just a lot, coming here is a lot dad. but I am here, I am not happy” I admitted “I told you son, you’re depressed but you think you’re not” shaking my head “I am just unhappy” I mumbled “Chris, listen to me. Do your rehabilitation here, I want you home with us” clearing my throat “I am supposed to be dead dad, I think you and I both know I cheated death many times. I am tired of being here, I am tired of it all. I can’t do this anymore; I am living just to live. I can’t even make the one person I love happy; I can’t do it. I don’t have the energy in me to do it” I am not even crying about it anymore, I am just numb to it “I will come to Cali Chris, send me the location. All you need to do is tell me. I didn’t want you to go in there first place, Chris listen to me. That cast will be off your leg, you will then need to start working on yourself. You are driving yourself crazy, you need to stop thinking you ever burdened me, because you didn’t. I got to spend so much time with you, all those years I missed, what are you doing now? Are you relaxing?” taking in a deep breath “yeah, I am just going to sleep” all I do is that what else is there to do “I feel I can’t trust Rihanna with my son, and I am concerned, did you tell her how you feel?” I laughed “no, and call her and we over. Anyways I am going, I will call tomorrow” disconnecting the call.

My eyes shot open hearing someone rummaging around, I shot up but not moving far just looking around “damn” I laid back down, it’s Robyn. That scared me there “watch it, Majesty is on the bed” seeing the baby on the bed “we are going to go and sleep upstairs so do as you please” rubbing my temples “I am not worried” I grumbled “clearly, you just refuse to even tell me the truth. Everything is you’re hard done by; I have tried so much with you. I feel so bad that this has happened to you because of me, I am trying to make things easy for you” Robyn is going on and on “enough!” I shouted, she is doing my head in “leave me the fuck alone, there is a reason why we barely spoke. Your voice is annoying me, you just look to continue to hear yourself. It’s the Robyn’ show! You’re right, you are fucking right. This is your fault, now just leave me alone!” I snapped and I didn’t want too, but she is going on like nothing, and then of course that baby cries “and take the child with you. Nobody wants to hear that” placing my arm over my eyes, I don’t care for her reaction. She will probably staring at me all hurt, she can just shut up now.

Wiping the countertop, stupid me dropped the milk when I tried to pour the milk. The countertop is very high, and I didn’t want to warm the leftovers for me because I couldn’t reach the microwave so it sucks, I thought I would do some cereal for myself which ended up being more hard work and I now wish I never bothered even doing it. I froze midway hearing the door open, I can hear people actually coming in. It’s like two in the morning so who could be out at this time of the night. I mean this home is secure right, I mean I thought that with the other home “I will check to see who is in the kitchen” it’s Noella, I breathed out. She is probably thinking who is raiding the kitchen “Chris, hey” she waved, smiling “hey” I look like a whole fool “hey Chris” her boyfriend came in “hi” this is just great “you need help?” she pointed “don’t pity me, I will do it myself. I know I am disabled but I don’t need help” I refused, I don’t need the help “but the milk is so far back and dripping, let me help��� I sighed out “I don’t need the pity party” Noella refused and just continued to get some tissues to clean up the mess, it must have gone far then.

Staring at the ceiling, today is the day I get my cast off and I feel nervous. I have been laid here just thinking, thinking on how my leg will look. How will I even move it, when I wet the cast and they removed it my leg looked bad, and I had an infection on it. I couldn’t move my leg, when she took it off, so I don’t know, and I am feeling a type of way. I swallowed hard; my phone started ringing. Picking my phone seeing my dad’ name, he harasses me now “hey” I answered, “morning son, how are we feeling?” he is sweet “uhm tired, nervous actually. What if my leg is truly just not working then what?” I don’t think I want to be here if that is the case, I don’t want it “it is, Chris you’re letting negative thoughts cloud your mind. I was thinking about you all night, I just want to be with you Chris. I want to just hug you. I love you so much Chris, I do. I love you and Tootie so much and you are very much wanted and loved Chris” wiping the tears that fell “I am fed up dad, I am so fed up. I shouted at Robyn last night, she was harassing me. I am not wanted here either” I sniffled “are you going to tell me where you are so I can be there?” my dad keeps on asking but no, I don’t want to tell him “no, I can do it myself dad. I have nothing, no kids or anything. I am just fed up” I mumbled “we love you son, come home” I don’t know what I want.

I am dressed, dressed and ready to go to this appointment, Robyn and I haven’t spoken, and she hasn’t come in the bedroom either, so I am not sure if she is taking me to the appointment or is expecting me to go alone. I have been waiting in the hallway for a while now “you excited, big day” looking up from my lap “oh hey” smiling at Monica “you not slept, you want me to zip your jacket up. It’s all lifted from the back” looking behind me, Monica was already fixing my jacket “sit forward for me” sitting forward as she fixed the back “that is better, are you excited? You don’t look it” she looked at me “I am not sure where your daughter is, we not on speaking terms” Monica started to zip my jacket up “I can get her no problem, she will be coming. I heard you was dropping milk in the early hours” she put my hood up “oh yeah, sorry” I apologised “you didn’t eat the food?” shaking my head “I couldn’t reach the microwave, I didn’t want to try either because then if I lost my balance, it would be worse. But thank you” smiling at her “I will get Robyn, she will come. You don’t look well, take care of yourself Chris” Monica walked off to get her daughter, I would go if I could, but I need the help going there.

Sat in the car with Robyn in silence, that’s how it is now with us both and I hate it but I am just so done with it. I just don’t want to be telling Robyn things when she is being like this “my mom said you had cereal and spilt milk, why didn’t you just wake me?” I sniggered, I laughed because it’s funny “you want me to walk up the steps?” I am not even being funny “you shouted at me yesterday, I don’t know what your issue is but I can’t do it Chris. I am trying with you. Come to me when you can speak to me right, you’re sat there like a spoilt brat” nodding my head “you’re right, ok Robyn” I will just admit defeat with her “you’re a little self-centred, I get it you paid for this and I appreciate it. Thank you” shaking my head, I just want this to be over “you’re not the guy I know, whatever” shaking my head looking out of the window, I feel teary eyed. Wiping my eye as I felt myself wanting to just cry, I don’t know what to do. Maybe I should have stayed in VA, my dad said he would get the money to pay for my treatment, but I can’t do that to him. I don’t hate Robyn, I am just done with things and fed up.

I feel like a right dickhead with Robyn pushing me, I look like a joke and a stupid idiot “if you would like to wait in the waiting room, a nurse will be over to get you both” nodding my head “thank you” Robyn said as she pushed me to the waiting room, I hope nobody is there. I already look an idiot, I got Rihanna pushing me in this chair. We have fallen out too so all this is very awkward between the both of us “shall we stay here” Robyn asked, some people are here which sucks “yeah” I mumbled, Robyn walked around me and then sat down on the chair next to me “hopefully it’s not too long, my mom thinks you haven’t had any sleep?” putting my head down “I didn’t” clearing my throat “I just couldn’t sleep” clasping my hands together “I don’t want us to argue Chris or fall out but I feel you don’t care, you are just quiet with me and then you ended up shouting at me” Robyn said in a whisper “you’re talking about shouting but you did start this, it’s not about you Robyn. All of this it’s not about you, I am tired” looking at Robyn “I am tired, I don’t want this to be about you because it’s not. You think I want to be like this, I wanted to stay in VA and hide. I am tired” my voice broke “I don’t want to speak on it now” I rather we stay silent now.

Seeing my leg for the very first time, I mean it’s been weeks but seeing my whole leg is just crazy. My leg looks a little awful to be honest, but I am happy it is off though, my dad told me to relax and maybe I am panicking that I can’t feel it but I can “feel different for it to be off?” the doctor asked, she is smiling “I don’t know how to feel about it, I can’t feel it?” the doctor nodded her head “I am sure you do, look at me and do not look anywhere else” staring into her eyes “ah” looking down at my thigh “you can feel your leg, it’s just it has been out of use for so long. Can you feel this touch” she shuffled to the side and then started to touch my foot “I can feel it” she smiled “this is great news, Chris what you went through and what I had to deal with when you came to me. You had damaged nerve, and yes you could have lost your senses, but you didn’t. Generally you are going to feel weird about it, just need to get your bearings before you start to walk on it” nodding my head, maybe she is right, but my leg is there. Moving my big toe, that was exciting. I am so happy to just see my leg even though the scarring looks awful.

Everything just feels weird, the doctor got two nurses to come and got me to sit up on the bed. I am just staring at my leg waiting “without putting your weight on this leg, I want to just stand you up. These are going to help you down” this is so odd to me because how do I get down now “this is weird” I said thinking I sound crazy but it’s not so crazy “I will hold your arm on this side, I think maybe slowly come down on your right and then left” the nurse said, nodding my head as I placed my hand on her shoulder as I slowly stood on my right foot “remember, there is nothing keeping your leg stable so you will feel a little discomfort” this is weird, I winced as my left foot touched the ground “no” shaking my head “it hurts, like pulling” lifting my left leg back up “just hold him, Chris. I am going to place your left foot flat. The walking frame, I want you to rest on this, all your weight on it” nodding my head placing my hands on the frame “this is hard” I mumbled “this is the hardest part Chris” she leaned down “remember, weight on the frame” I got to do this, I have feeling in my leg. I need to walk “could I have lost my feeling in my leg?” I asked “possibility but we can do this Chris” she placed my foot on the ground “the ground is cold” such a weird feeling “I don’t think we are close enough to have you walking like we wanted, all is well Chris. This is the start, it’s going to be needing you to be more healthy, more inner strength” staring down at the doctor “what do you mean?” I asked “we can speak after; I just need to run a few tests. So, your foot is flat on the ground, now I slowly want you to add some weight to it and then tell me when it hurts, go” slowly resting on my feet, feeling the weight on my thigh “ah, no” I stopped “that is good, ok good. I think what I am going to do, is put you on crutches. Get about easier, walking frame will come into play when we start the rehabilitation” nodding my head, that is better than a whole wheel chair.

I feel so much better with crutches, I can just hop along easier “try even placing your foot on the floor sometimes without putting weight on it. Just get the feel for it, like if you are resting on the side. Just placing your foot down, try and keep up with that. And I can’t stress this enough Chris, this is going to take a lot of strength, this is the hard work now. This part is the most stressful, we need to get that leg back to what it was. It’s healed but gotten lazy, your nervous system went into disarray, you got shot, you bled out you was moving and bleeding out, you got infection. There is a lot to take in, and I have seen it. The after surgery and the medication can put you in grief, fear, anxiety, mood swings and depression. I know, I have had patients young as you, full of life and life just stopped for them. How are you feeling? I am saying what I see but I don’t know, how is Chris feeling after this surgery?” staring at the doctor and she just stared at me “hard, I been finding it hard” I swallowed hard “it is, and you’re not alone in this” clenching my jaw “I am tired, I am so tired” Robyn held my hand out of nowhere.

[nami-writes]

Bittersweet Reunion - Watch Dogs: Legion [WIP]

(can you tell i had no clue what to name this)

so i wrote this after i played wdl and finished the finding bagley mission bc i loved that there was a canon mlm pairing and i thought the whole meeting bradley thing was Incredibly unsatisfying so i did this and originally i was gonna have bagley and arthur get back together but then it started writing itself and bagley wouldnt date arthur bc that’d go against his morals and i was like shit thats not what i planned but also i realized it was in character so this is that disaster lmao

“I’m ready for the rest of my life, Arthur. And I want you to be a part of it.”

The sixth audio file ended with what sounded like a kiss, and Lindsey had to pause to take it in. Bagley had really had a life— a lover. A lover he had to leave behind.

“Arthur… I should remember more about him. But I don’t.”

It sounded so rushed, so nonchalant, that Lindsey knew better than to believe his tone and even Bagley himself knew it. Because, truth was, he was processing the same things Lindsey was and more. He really was damned to eternity, being a human turned AI and all, because now he was experiencing quite a lot of thoughts and certainly not enjoying it. Where was Arthur now? Did he still remember him? Did he miss him? Why was Bagley even wondering if his not-boyfriend still missed him?

Some part of his human half wondered if it’s possible to find Arthur again, meet the person his past self was so deeply in love with that now he found himself longing for him too.

“Sir—”

“Don’t touch me!”

Bagley was pulled out of the thoughts growing less and less artificial by the second as the next audio file began, already far more emotionally charged than the ones prior.

“These people are here to help you, Bags—”

“Don’t call me that!”

He’s snappish and frustrated and angry and current Bagley could almost feel it too. There’s more struggling as Bagley— past Bagley— seemed to be fighting someone off.

“She did this! Someone stop her!”

‘She’ must’ve been Skye Larsen, who else could it have been? He wanted to hope Natalie would listen— just listen, goddammit, this was all Skye’s fault, don’t you know what she’s done?— but he knew it was no use. They didn’t know. Natalie didn’t know. Not a fucking soul knew what she did to him.

“Don’t hurt him! He’s not usually like this!”

“Get out of my head! Get o—”

His voice died out as more noise played, then an unfamiliar voice called for an ambulance.

“Bags. Bagley. Bra—”

And it ended there.

“I’m assuming that ‘she’ was Skye Larsen,” he said to Lindsey. “Seems like the usual suspect where brain fuckery is concerned.” As controlled as he usually was, not even he could keep the slightest bit of anger out of his voice by the end of his sentence.

The next audio file began with a man explaining that Bagley had early on-set dementia, which intrigued him because it didn’t explain when exactly Skye got her hands on him. Then the sister from prior audio files spoke with that same strangely familiar voice, just as demanding as before. “You listen to me. I don’t care what it takes. No brother of mine is going to waste away in some hospital.”

Something was wrong. There was a piece missing somewhere between those memories and he had an idea of where it could be found.

Skygarden.

“Why do I have a feeling we’re not up here to reminisce?” The audio began as Lindsey snapped the last photo.

“Right. I’ve been thinking a lot about your epilepsy.” The sister. Of course. He still couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she sounded awfully familiar, but not in a good way. In a this-person-has-the-same-name-as-my-primary-school-bully way.

“That’s nice. My doctors stopped thinking about it years ago. I had to give up so much because of it. Rowing, my mates, my…” A sigh followed after he trailed off and he had a feeling that that sigh replaced the word ‘boyfriend.’

“I’m sorry, Bradley.” Bradley. That name sounded familiar. Come to think of it, that must’ve been what Natalie called him in the seventh audio file just before it cut off. He supposed it sounded familiar because, well, it is— was— his name, but there was something more to it. He just couldn’t figure out what. He ran a quick search for Bradleys in London, but of course that left him with thousands of Bradleys and not a single clue as to how to filter out the useless ones.

“Wow. Look at you using my real name for once. I must be truly fucked.” Fucked was an understatement. How did he go from a human to nothing more than an AI? It wasn’t that he was unhappy as an AI, especially considering he worked for DedSec and they were wonderful, they really were, but to think he was once human…

“What if I told you I had something that could work?”

Something deep inside of him that vaguely resembled a computerized heart dropped at those words. He had a bad, bad feeling about this.

“Ha. Never knew you were funny.”

But Skye Larsen created him, didn’t she?

“I’m not. It’s a tech we’re developing. It’s early stages, but… have you ever heard of neural mapping?”

“No.” No, it couldn’t be.

“Here. Let’s go to my lab. I’ll show you.”

Who was this sister?

“Lead the way, Skye.”

And the audio ended.

“I was Skye Larsen’s brother.” It was strange to say out loud. “I’m Bradley. Bradley Larsen.” That was why she sounded so familiar. That was why Skye Larsen was his creator. Fuck. “Bradley Larsen…” He returned to his search for Bradleys and narrowed it down to one Bradley Larsen, brother of Skye Larsen, son of Sinead and Kevin Larsen. “I’ve found a room pre-paid through to April 4, 2040 under the name of Bradley Larsen— paid for by S. Larsen.” Skye.

“So you might still be alive,” Lindsey said. “Where’s the room?”

He checked his databases. “St. Pancras Hotel.”

And when she arrived, it was no less than what he expected, if less than what he wanted.

He left not quite satisfied.

But what else could he do? His father was gone and his mother and sister were dead. He checked his deep profiler and found Natalie through Bradley, but it seemed she was dead as well. And then— Arthur Jenkins, former spouse. 

“I think I’ve found Arthur from the sixth audio file,” he said. “Mind getting him for me?”

“Say the word, Bags,” Lindsey said.

He found his schedule and looked for his soonest outing. “He’ll be at Crosier & Cherry Tree at 8 PM.” There was a tinge of sadness in his voice at the location that they both decided to ignore.

He checked the rest of Arthur’s profile, too curious to resist. His photo was attached. To his surprise, Arthur was a curly-haired ginger. Apparently Bradley had known more people with no souls than just Skye Larsen. Age 29, worked as a bartender at Crosier & Cherry— that was why he’d be there. Associated with Melissa Phillips, friend; Natalie Walker, deceased friend; and Bradley Larsen, former spouse. Metadata… looking through it could’ve broken his heart if he had one.

He had countless searches involving dementia up until he was 28 and had hundreds of recorded visits to St. Pancras Hotel, Bradley’s room. Hundreds of visits that, when he accessed the records, seemed to just… stop. Daily-to-weekly visits simply vanished into none. Numerous phone calls to Skye Larsen that Bagley could only assume were angry and accusational because he was charged for harassment due to a complaint from Skye on the same day he stopped visiting.

He tried. He really tried, and then Skye fucked it all up like she always does.

“Bagley, I’ve found him.” He turned his attention to Lindsey’s Optik and, sure enough, he could see the ginger in the photo through the glass window. “Want me to bring him back to the Hackerspace?”

He considered it, but bringing him back would’ve meant involving the others. This was just a one-time thing. “No, just— could you get him somewhere I could talk privately with him?”

“Sure thing.” He watched as she entered the pub and approached Arthur at the counter.

“‘Ello, mate, what can I get for you?” he asked, uncannily cheery with a smile on his face. Something told Bagley this should’ve made him feel… something, but he felt not even a twinge of recognition from anywhere other than the photo on his digital profile.

“I’m here to talk to you, actually,” Lindsey said.

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow and took a second to look her over a second time, his customer service smile fading into skepticism. “Do I know you?”

“No, but I know someone you do. Mind if we talk somewhere else?”

He shrugged. “S’pose not. Better get it on with, then, I’ve got to get back to work.”

Shit. Time was running out and they were already heading to a back room and Bagley hadn’t a fucking clue what to say so when he was cast onto the nearest unwatched telly before Lindsey left, all he could think to say was “Hello, Arthur.”

And then there was a silence where Bagley was internally cursing himself for being such a bloody idiot and Arthur looked like either he was about to drop to his knees in awe or he had shit himself. And then he broke the silence.

“Bradley?” His eyes were lit up with hope, hope Bagley knew he’d have to destroy because he wasn’t Bradley, not really. But he’d worry about that later.

“Oh, Gods, that’s going to be my version of Bradley’s stupid nickname, isn’t it? Though, if you ask me, Bagley is a perfectly good name,” he remarked. He had no idea how to properly handle a situation in which he was meeting the lover he had in a past life, so, naturally, he reverted to his usual self. Arthur was in love with him before, he can put up with him again.

Arthur chuckled, cracking a smile. “Now I know you aren’t Bradley. He hated that nickname.” He took another moment to comprehend what just happened. “But, really, how? How are you— what are you? What is” —he gestured vaguely at the TV screen— “this?”

“That’s a funny story, actually, see—”

“Bradley,” Arthur interrupted him, his smile turning solemn. “I’m serious. Last time I saw you, you were in a bloody wheelchair! What happened to you?”

There was another silence where Bagley tried to think of something ‘serious’ to say, but his actual response felt much more natural to him.

“Don’t call me that,” he said, a feigned grumble but unseen smile in his voice, “that’s not my name.”

And at that, not even Arthur could keep a straight face, but his smile didn’t last long. “Bags. Please. I need answers. I was so sure it was that bitch Skye— sorry, I know she’s your sister and all, but— I spent so long searching for ways to help you and trying to get her to fucking stop— you only ended up in the bloody hospital after she got involved and then she wouldn’t let me keep seeing you and I couldn’t—” His voice broke then and he had to pause, clear his throat and collect himself. “I’m sorry, I tried, I didn’t want to stop visiting. I really didn’t. I’m sorry.”

Bagley didn’t know how to tell him it was all in vain; Skye won in the end, she always did, and he didn’t even remember being Bradley or knowing Arthur at all. As far as he remembered, he’d only known Arthur for five minutes.

“Bagley?”

“It doesn’t matter.” There was no use in prolonging it.

“...What?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated. “I’m not Bradley.”

“Are you mad? Of course you’re Bradley.’

“No, I’m not. Bradley is still in St. Pancras. I’m Bagley.”

Arthur gave a confused chuckle and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”

“It was Skye,” he finally said. “It’s a long story, really, but in simpler terms, she tried to fix Bradley’s epilepsy through a process called neural mapping. It essentially separated his consciousness from his body, which gave him dementia and took my human body. I’m his consciousness, but I’m not him.”

Arthur didn’t respond. He seemed to still be processing what he’d just heard.

“And I’m sorry to say, but my memory was wiped not long after my creation. I don’t… remember anything about being Bradley.” He paused. Arthur knew what that meant, and he knew that his next sentence was going to confirm it. “I don’t remember anything about you.”

Arthur took far longer to respond than Bagley would’ve liked. “So you’re—” He stopped. “So Bradley’s really gone.”

“Unfortunately so.”

More silence. “Then why are you here?”

That was a good question, actually. Why was he here?

“I suppose I came to say goodbye,” Bagley said. “Give you some closure on Bradley, so you know what happened. I know you two were quite close.”

He scoffed. “Close is an understatement.” His voice softened. “We were going to get married,” he said. “At least, I think we were. If Skye hadn’t gotten involved— if I’d only had the time— I was going to propose. Had a ring in mind and everything. I’m fairly sure Bradley knew, too. I just wanted us to have that one thing before… before it was too late.”

Bagley had to take a second to let it sink in. In a past life, he’d almost gotten married. How much had he missed out on as a human because of Skye? His voice was solemn as he spoke, a first for him. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Arthur offered no elaboration before something else seemed to cloud his mind. Silence seemed to be something both of them were good at. Bagley considered directly asking what was on his mind, but Arthur spoke before he could decide. “Can I ask something of you?”

“Ask away. I’ve only got the rest of my non-life.”

“...Could we try it again?” he asked, hesitation in his words. At Bagley’s confused silence, he uncrossed his arms, a willing show of vulnerability. “I mean, could we try… us, again? I know you don’t remember anything about me or Bradley and you’re not Bradley, I know that, but— maybe something good could come out of it. Maybe— maybe we could still have something.”

“You want us to…” He trailed off, thinking it over. By ‘something,’ he meant a relationship, but— could he be in a relationship? He was still an AI. He wasn’t Bradley. He wasn’t even attracted to Arthur. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he could feel attraction, if that was built into his operating system. Everything in him wanted to say no, it would never work out. An AI taking part in human affairs was a recipe for disaster.

“We could start from the beginning,” Arthur added, as if he knew what Bagley was thinking before he even said it. “I know you don’t really know me so we can start out just friends, nothing more. We can take it as slow as you want and if you decide there’ll never be anything more, we can just stay as friends if that’s what you’re comfortable with. But if you think there can be more, we can try that.”

It was tempting, but… Arthur was still human. And Bagley was not. “Arthur, I’m not sure I was made for this.”

“Then let’s find out,” he said. “I’m okay with anything you are.”

“No, I mean I’m not sure I was made to feel attraction. I believe that’s a fairly important part of relationships,” Bagley said with a hint of humor in the last sentence, though it disappeared by the next. “I’ve never felt that way toward anyone and I’m not sure you’ll be an exception.”

He sighed. “Bags. It doesn’t matter to me whether you like me as a friend or as a boyfriend. What matters is whether or not you’re comfortable with me. I didn’t fall in love with your attraction. I fell in love with you.”

“You fell in love with Bradley,” he corrected. “Not me.”

Regardless of how tempting the offer was and how curious he was to see the extent of his human capabilities, it’d only be an experiment. A trial run of a relationship with someone who was only willing because he was still attached to the person Bagley no longer was. It would be cruel to take advantage of Arthur’s hope for his own curiosity— no different from what Skye did to Bradley. He might’ve had his human body stripped from him, but he still had his humanity.

“Arthur, I’m not Bradley,” he said. “And I know it’s hard to accept, but I can’t be the person you want me to be.”

[avengerscompound]

That Kid You Knew - 3

That Kid You Knew: An Iron Man Fanfic

Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕ @iron-man-bingo​ Square:  "Does Tony have a son?"

Warning:  Angsty stuff, mentions of sex, drugs, and pregnancy

Word Count:  3201

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Summary:  You had grown up knowing Tony Stark but as you’d gotten older you’d lost track of him.  When you see him at a party you have a drug-fueled one-night-stand with him.

10 years later he finds you again and has to come to terms with the fact he’s been a father all the time.

Chapter 3

“I want to try and make up the time with him quickly.  I know he’s got school to worry about.  But I can maybe come and get him after school a couple of days this week.  I’d like to shuffle things around and take him out on weekends too.  You’ve had him 9 years, I’d like to start getting to know him properly.”

Tony had gotten back from taking Owen out for pizza late.  While he’d been gone you had a long phone conversation with your mother about what happened.  To say she was unhappy about your lying was an understatement.  After Owen was ready for bed, Tony had gone and sat with him, chatting about things, almost like he was just telling him stories based on his time as Iron Man, until Owen fell asleep.

His parenting instinct maybe wasn’t perfect, but it was strong.  You couldn’t believe you had kept Owen from him.

When Owen was asleep, he turned his attention on you.

“Tony, I want to make this right.  You can spend as much time as you want with him.  I just - I’m not sure…”  You trailed off not sure how to tell him that you didn’t really know him very well and you’re not sure if you can trust him to be completely alone with your son.  Even letting Tony take him out tonight, despite the fact he had security with him, had filled you with anxiety.  He was a multimillionaire.  He could have taken him anywhere or done anything.  Despite the fact you’d basically grown up together, you barely knew him anymore.

“Oh my god!”  Tony groaned.  “Are you seriously about to make some excuse as to why I can’t see my son now?”  He tapped his left arm and leaned forward, looking you in the eyes.  “I am really, really trying to keep myself together today.  I think I’ve done pretty well considering.  But so help me…”

The anger and frustration dripped from his words.  It might have helped you build a case against him being alone with Owen, except you knew where he was coming from.  If you were in his shoes, you would have lost it a long time ago.

You put your hand on his.  “Tony,”  You said, quietly.  “You’re right.  I had my reasons, but I was wrong.  There is no way I can make up for what I’ve done.  I want you to spend as much time as you can with him.  I just… I don’t know you.”

Tony balled his hands into fists.  “What exactly are you accusing me of here?”

You took a deep breath to steady yourself.  “I’m trying to say, I haven’t dated anyone in ten years because I have trouble trusting strangers with my son.  And it makes me anxious thinking of him being alone with someone I barely know.”

Tony opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again, his teeth clenched, and his jaw twitching.  He tapped out a pattern on the table as he seemed to try and steady his emotions.  “You do know me.”

“I haven’t seen you for 10 years and when I last saw you, you were high.”  You counter.

“I’m Iron Man.”  He said.  “I fight to protect people.  And I’m his dad.  What the hell do you think I’m going to do to him?”

“And no father has ever hurt their child?  Please try to see this from my point of view.  Or look at it from the point of view of his dad.  Do you want me to just let him spend time alone with strange men?”  You implored.  “I’m not saying I’ll never trust you.  I just… I need time to feel like he’s safe when he’s with you.  That’s all.”

There was silence for the longest time.  Tony just sat opposite you at the table playing with his glasses.  Gradually, he relaxed and looked up at you.  “I get it.  It doesn’t have to be alone, to begin with.  You can come with us.  Or… or we can find someone to chaperone you’re happy with.  I have security people, if you have a babysitter it can be them.  I don’t know.  I can get Captain America if you like.  Do you trust Captain America?”

You let yourself relax a little and let out a soft breath.  The start of laughter but not actually laughter.  You reached over and took his hands in yours.  “Thank you for being so understanding.  I know this must be hard for you.  Honestly, you’re taking it better than my mom did.”

Tony let out a laugh and stifled it quickly as he pulled his hands away and ran them through his hair.  “I just - I can’t believe this is happening.  I don’t even know how I’m supposed to feel about all of this.  Should I be excited?  Scared?  Angry?  I feel like I’m in emotional overload and normally when that happens I shut people out but I know if I do that, I lose him before I even got him in the first place.”

You leaned back and nodded.  “I know what you mean.  I don’t know what I was expecting either.  I had always just assumed you’d tell me that it had nothing to do with you.”

Tony shook his head.  “He’s my son.”  He said.  “Which brings me to another thing.  You can’t live here.  He’s my son.  I’m going to give you back pay for child support.  We can work out the number later.  But you need to use it to move somewhere more secure.  When this gets out, this is not going to be safe for him.”

You blinked at him a few times.  “You don’t need to give me any money.”

“He’s my son,”  Tony repeated.  There was a pain in the words this time.  Like he didn’t think he was going to be enough for him.

You took his hand and nodded again.  “I know.”

Over the course of the next two months Tony seemed to devote all this time to creating a relationship with Owen and proving to you he could be trusted.  Certainly, for a man who ran a billion-dollar company and acted as a superhero, he wasn’t spending much time doing either.  He was picking him up from school three days a week and taking him out.  He was coming by both on Saturdays and Sundays and either just hanging out at your place or taking him on outings.  They did museums and zoos and movies and bands.  A couple of times he even went with you to look at houses.  Sometimes you went with them.  Sometimes it was an agreed-upon chaperone.  If they went out it was always a team of at least two security.

He and Owen just clicked too.  Owen was in so many ways, so much like his father.  He was smart and sarcastic and curious.  Tony seemed to take to the whole parenting thing pretty naturally too.  He was overcompensating for the missing time and he second-guessed himself a lot, but in those moments when they both just relaxed and talked tech or science or one of what seemed to be becoming a long list of things they were both passionate about, it was like he had always been Owen’s dad.  Tony would listen to Owen like everything he had to say was the most interesting thing in the world.

In those moments when you saw them like that you would start going over what might have been different if you had just told him.  He was so different back then.  Railing against his own father who had died before he’d ever been accepted by him.  He definitely wouldn’t have believed you.  He might even have accused you of getting pregnant on purpose for the money.  Maybe it might have been okay in the end.  Maybe you could have moved to LA and he could have been part of Owen’s life.  Maybe you could have shared custody.  He could have had him overnight and every second weekend.  You wouldn’t have had to do this alone.  You might have actually had time to have your own life and maybe even date.  Owen would have had someone else he knew would be there for him.  Tony would have had that exciting moment when he’d been called ‘dada’.

Not that everything was going smoothly and stress-free.  Dealing with lawyers even at this early stage and with neither of you particularly arguing anything wasn’t exactly easy.  You hated to think what it would be like if Tony she’d you for custody.  You hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

His friends seemed to have a mixed reaction to you.  From what Owen had said they’d all gone out of their way to make sure he felt at home there.  From what Tony had said there had been bets made about whether or not he had some secret kid he didn’t know about.  Most of them were at least polite if they ever saw you.  Rhodey had come and told you that while he wasn’t sure you should have kept the secret, he got it and maybe Tony finding out now was better.  He was ready now.  Back then he as a mess.  Clint Barton was openly hostile.  Tony said it was because he had kids.  You supposed you understood that.

That wasn’t the worst bit though.  The worst bit was the press.

It was only one outing there was speculation on the internet.  “Does Tony Stark have a son?”  They couldn’t get any actual confirmation that it was true though. Thankfully, the people who knew were smart enough to not talk to the press and Tony wasn’t actually listed on the birth certificate.  Even still they decided after two weeks of spotting the two of them together that he must be his son.   After that, it was everywhere.  Paparazzi began stalking him, yelling out to him in the street to get him to admit it.  They camped outside your house and would approach Owen.  Tony put security at your place too, but you could tell the fact you still lived there was causing him a great deal of anxiety.

At the two month mark, Tony had organized a trip for the two of you to the Natural History Museum after it had closed.  Owen was extremely excited to get what he was calling the ‘A Night at the museum tour’.  He ran through the halls of taxidermied animals, his feet echoing through the place as you and Tony strolled along behind him.

None of this stuff was particularly Tony’s expertise but you could see him sharing in the excitement whenever Owen called him over to look at something.

“We need to work out what we’re going to do from here, don’t you think?”  Tony asked as you trailed along after Owen.  “I really want him to start doing sleepovers.  I mean… I think it’s time, don’t you?  But there’s the Avengers stuff.  I keep thinking that the first time I have him over something big will happen and I’ll get called out and then what?”

You went to answer but Owen excitedly called you over to look at the family of elephants.  “Are these African or Asian?”  Tony asked.

“African.  You can tell by the ears.”  Owen answered.

He took off again and you chuckled and followed after at the slow pace you had been walking before.  “That’s a good idea.  I - the stuff before - about the chaperone.  I trust you.”

“Good. That’s good.”  He said.  “I don’t want to go through the courts for custody.  I want to just work it out with you.  This is hard enough as it is.”

“I’m not against you, Tony.  I know you don’t trust me.  You don’t have any reason to trust me.  But I promise I want to give you guys what I can.”

“I thought to begin with he could come and visit every second weekend,”  Tony said, thrusting his hands in his pockets.  “But… Okay so hear me out.  I think until you find a new place you should move into the tower.  The press are assholes.  It’ll be safer for you both there.”

“Tony, I don’t know…”  You said.

“Look, I know it’s gonna be weird us living in the same building.  But it’s not like we’d be living in the same apartment.  You’d have your own place.  There are actual apartments there.  I can have a car take you to and from work and one to take Owen to and from school.”  He said.  “Plus it would give you a chance to see what it’s like for me day-to-day.  And I’ll be able to see him a little more regularly.”

You took a deep breath and watch as Owen stopped to look at the Bison.  “Alright.  I want to keep him safe and you’re right.  But it’s not forever, Tony.  Just until I find something more suitable.”

He smiled and seemed to relax.  “Great.  Fantastic.  This will be great.”

The move into the Avengers Tower happened really quickly.  Within a week your apartment was empty and things were on their way to being unpacked in the new place.  It wasn’t as big a place as your old one but the idea was it would be temporary.  You and Owen were looking for a house, and with the money from Tony, it was going to be a lot nicer than either place.

Living in the tower brought with it a lot of benefits though.  The buildings AI was amazing.  She ordered in your regular groceries as you ran out of them.  She would turn lights on and off as you need them.  Lock and unlock doors.  She knew where Tony was all the time.  You started to wonder if you could go back to not having her around.

The building had a gym and a pool.  There was a thing called the party deck where the Avengers’ would hang out and they’d invite you and Owen up.  The longer you were there the more they settled into having you around and the resentment any of them felt for hurting their friend seemed to dissipate.  Especially as Tony slipped deeper and deeper in his role of father.

You started getting along better with Tony too.  Eventually, it got to the point that it had felt like there had been no missing time between the two of you.  He’d show up at the apartment and you’d all eat together and he’d help Owen with his homework, or they’d do some other little project together.  Then he’d tell him watered down Iron Man stories to him at bedtime.  It wasn’t every night, but it was most nights.

There was the whole ‘Avenging’ thing that would get in the way, and it was nerve-wracking.  Being this close to it you hadn’t considered out stressful it would be to have someone you were so connected to out risking their life.  You could see it was affecting Owen too.  He was always so relieved and almost clung to Tony when he got back.

Finding a place was difficult though.  Or maybe you lacked the motivation.  Whatever the case you ended up being there for months building a comfortable routine with Tony.

“What are you guys feeling for dinner?”  He asked one Friday afternoon as Owen let him in.  “You want to order in?  Or are you cooking?”

“Ordering in sounds good.  Work was a killer.”  You said, coming out of the kitchen to greet him.

“Can we get burgers?”  Owen asked.

Tony ruffled his hair and handed him his phone.  “You know the drill.”  He said before collapsing on the couch.

“You two and burgers.”  You said sitting down beside Tony.  “How much do you have them when I’m not around?”

Tony put his finger to his lips.  “Shh…”

Owen cracked up laughing.  “Hardly any, mom.”  He joked as he tapped around on Tony’s phone.  “Alright.  Ordered something for everyone, dad.”

Tony and your heads snapped up.  You looked at each other and then at him.  Tony’s jaw dropped open in shock.

Owen looked down at his shoes and furrowed his brow.  “Should I not have called you that?  I can call you Tony.  Sorry.”

Tony almost tripped he jumped up so quickly.  He pulled Owen into a tight hug.  “No.  No, no, no.”  He soothed.  “I was just surprised.  But… good.  It’s a good surprise.  You’ve never called me that before.”  He crouched down and looked Owen in the eye.  “I am your dad and I’d love if you called me that.”

Owen nodded his head.  “Okay.  ‘Cause that’s what I want to call you.”

That night after Owen was in bed, Tony came down and sat down next to you, holding a tumbler of Scotch a little too tightly.

You smiled at him and patted his leg.  “You’re a dad now.”

He returned the smile almost hesitantly at first until he was beaming at you.  “I know.”  He said, with a slight shake in his voice.  “I hoped that one day he might call me that.  I wasn’t getting my hopes too high because of how long I’ve not been part of his life.  But I hoped.  I had no idea it would feel so good and so scary when he did it though.”

You tried to hold it together as he spoke, but once again it hit you, how much you stole from them.

You burst into tears and Tony put his drink down and wrapped you in his arms.  “Hey, now.  I’m not planning on taking him from you.”  He said.

You shook your head, wiping your tears on his t-shirt.  “It’s not that.  I’m so sorry.  I’m so sorry I kept him from you.”

“We can’t keep going over that,”  Tony said.  “It happened.  You can’t keep beating yourself up over it.”

“You should have been a daddy though.  You should have got to hear him say dada when he was learning to talk.”  You sobbed.

He tilted your face up to his.  “I know.  It sucks.  It sucks that I missed that.  But he just called me dad.  This is a good day.”

You nodded a little pathetically and he wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs as he cradled you jaw.  You looked up into the brown of his eyes and you saw it.  His eyes flicked to your lips.  You felt your breath hitch and your eyes flicked to his.  They were parted just a little, almost inviting you in.  You looked back into his eyes and he ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Have you really not been with anyone since me?”  He asked, his voice almost a soft growl.

You shook your head, not sure what exactly was happening right now.  Not sure if anything should happen right now.  It did though.  It felt like time stopped.  Your heart was beating in your ears and you couldn’t stop looking at his lips as they came closer and closer.  His breath tickled your skin and you closed your eyes.

// NEXT

[silverleafnightshade-blog]

The Shining, Part 2: Hope I’m Not Overlook-ing Anything

(Scroll down to read part one if’in ya haven’t yet)

Besides the Colorado Lounge, we are introduced to the Gold Room fairly early on, during a tour led by the Overlook’s manager, Stuart Ullman (a very merry Barry Nelson). “Pink and gold are my favorite colors,” Wendy (Shelley Duvall) states happily to Stu, but didn’t appear to catch that same vibe off the caretaker’s apartment. This careless little corner is decorated in hepatitis yellow and whytepeeple-flesh pink, and you can almost feel your skin drying up in that attic air. It’s somehow even more depressing and claustrophobic than the apartment the Torrances just left behind.

Put a good face on it and smile, kids!

The Gold Room is pretty ballin’ though, and even more so once the ghosts arrive to zhuzh up the place a bit. The female guests seem to be wearing a lot of gold or champagne gowns, and that color coordination continues down to the yolky Advocaat drink that Grady (Philip Stone) spills on Jack. That drink is basically a Dutch cross between eggnog and custard, and “tends to stain,” says Grady as he whisks Jack off to that terrific red men’s room.

I was musing earlier about how the Overlook’s layout helps to build up a feeling of unease. But what unfortunately fails to build up to anything is Jack Nicholson’s performance. Stephen King was apparently unhappy with Kubrick’s casting choice; King argued for Jon Voight or a likewise dad-ish actor who could emit a more benign vibe. Ultimately, King wanted someone who read a little less “Cuckoo” than Nicholson, and upon this latest re-viewing, I think I rather agree with King. There is no descent into madness with this Jack, but rather a tiny trip over a curb and boom! Straight to crazy town. Nicholson’s Jack Torrance goes from white knuckles to wholly terrible so fast, it doesn’t give you much sympathy for his character. I remember at my first viewing, I thought that Danny (Danny Lloyd) was supposed to be Jack’s stepson, because Jack’s character seemed so completely disconnected from his son from the very start. You infer early on from Wendy that the family appears to be running from a pattern of alcoholism and child abuse. While I think this backstory informs her character’s initial passivity (which later develops into incredible strength), I’d still rather that the hotel is the bad guy in this flick, an entity preying on the weaknesses of an ordinary family man. Oh damn... I think this is turning into an argument that The Shining serves as the bridge between 1970s and 1980s horror themes! Supernatural psychosis attacking the safe space, the suburban family displaced into the sinister setting... yup, I think this argument holds water.

But Jack is in fact the bad guy in this flick: while Danny is sensitive to thresholds of the hotel’s dark past, Jack is key in unleashing the horrors, bringing those colors from sepia to Kodachrome. Danny can’t help that he notices the Shine given off by the Overlook, but Jack is an eager participant in his own corruption. I only noticed upon this viewing how much Jack stares at himself in mirrors. There he is in pivotal scenes, sticking out his tongue in the caretaker apartment’s vanity, or mugging in the mirrored backsplash of the Gold Room’s bar, and even making a quick adjustment while chatting with Grady in the red restroom. He only notices that he is making out with a corpse in Room 237 because he catches sight in the bathroom mirror.

But while Jack is gazing at his reflection, unreflected on his increasing insanity, it’s a mirror that pulls the blinders off Wendy. When Danny writes “Redrum” on the bathroom door, and Wendy finally reads it backwards in the mirror, it is just in time. Jackie boy has an axe to grind and is about to do a bit of demo work on the apartment.

But let’s backtrack and talk about Room 237, shall we? I fucking love this room. Everything about it is so pronounced and announced, from the (Hicks-inspired) peacocking carpet to those carnally magenta sofa and chairs, straight to the matching chevron-patterned drapes and bedspread. I also adore the brass-accented furniture and strange stripey cream walls.

Maximalistas, unite! And then of course there’s the bathroom, that amazing combination of cream, gold, and mint walls with sea foam green porcelain fixtures. I mean, it’s best appreciated sans corpse, of course. Oof, I am so ready to shrug off this last decade’s last gasp of minimalism, this tired trend of white white white everything with demure accents of fir or beech wood. Viva la sea foam toilets! Bring on the rose pink sinks! I’m very glad someone out there had the foresight to hold onto that stuff.

The Overlook’s head chef Dick Hallorann (Scatman goddamn Crothers) has some decidedly 70s decorating ideas, which I don’t hate at all. Here’s his awesome bedroom in Miami:

This may seem like a minor detail in the plot, but I think there’s no casual connection between domestic violence and racism in the movie. Grady (who murdered his wife and two daughters) uses a racial slur to refer to Dick, and Jack is pretty fucking unwoke with his “white man’s burden” comment and general shittiness towards Wendy and Danny. And I imagine that this was more Crother’s own cue rather than Kubrick directing, but did you notice that Dick’s character seemed to make himself smaller whenever he had to address a white person? He always assumed a subservient position, slightly bent over, even when dealing with white people beneath his rank at the hotel. There’s a tiny scene where Dick has to call his friend Larry in northern Colorado to rent a Snowcat to get to the Overlook. Larry is also black, and the scene shows Dick easy and relaxed while chatting with Larry, speaking forcefully into the receiver and cursing freely. It’s like Dick’s Miami pad is the true version of the character. Dick has had a lot of practice hiding his Shine from others, because he must constantly surveil and suppress his own feelings. He is really such an important character, and I am still pretty pissed that the movie kills off Dick (yeah, he survives in the book). Still, I think Kubrick did right by the character, or I guess as well as could be hoped for given the time and circumstances.

RIP, Dick. We’ll never forget your wood-paneled Miami man-cave.

So I bent the rules on this one, but I think it can be argued that The Shining belongs in the archives of iconic 1970s horror film architecture. Next time, though, I’ll be standing on safely 70s giallo ground.

[tinyavenuesailor]

A Loveless Engagement

NOT Beta’d(but I really wouldn’t be against volunteers)

An arranged marriage? Jiang Cheng should have seen this coming. Ever since Hanguang-Jun had made that bold declaration of love and proposal to Wei Ying, his mother had made herself busy with setting him up with marriage interviews. So what if Wei Ying scored the most eligible young master and had a wedding that surpassed even Shijie ’s and a love with his now-husband that was envied by all.... To hell with all of it! If it wasn’t for the fact that his brother was so blissfully happy in the arms of Lan Wangji, he would have given him a solid punch to the stomach for the unfair luck he was blessed with. He either must have done a great act for the sake of humanity - which Jiang Cheng couldn’t even joke about, just the thought of it was ridiculously implausible - or been cursed in his past life to even out his luck.

The Yiling Patriarch sneezes somewhere in an alternate universe.

It didn’t matter in the end. His brother was married to a respectable cultivator, who would take care of him and treat him well. That thought didn’t sit so well with his mother since that respectable cultivator was the second Jade of the Gusu Lan Sect. You can’t have a servant of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect marrying higher than the master, that was what Jiang Cheng assumed her thoughts to be heading towards. Jiang Cheng has never been against arranged marriage. It was only a matter of time with his track record of successful unsuccessful marriage interviews. His mother already had a list of suitable partners no doubt but to his surprise, this wasn’t an arrangement made by his mother but his father. It was rare for Jiang Fengmian to involve himself in his son’s affairs, business or personal. This had piqued Jiang Cheng’s curiosity when he heard of the news the first time. 

Having Nie Huaisang seated across from as his potential cultivation partner was just not the result he expected. 

Jiang Cheng sat in silence as his parents with Nie Mingjue discussed various things going on and off topic about their engagement. So far, he understood that it was Nie Mingjue and his father who had worked out the engagement between the two. Nothing had been set in stone yet and there was still room to dissolve the entire thing and pretend like it never happened. Madam Yu was hoping for the latter, no doubt. Jiang Cheng had already overheard his mother’s disapproval on the arrangement during one of his parents' several arguments. The rumours of Nie Huaisang’s reputation has even managed to spread to the Lotus Pier, his mother wouldn’t take this lightly. 

Nie Huaisang was seated next to his brother acting obedient and frail. He kept his head tucked down, a good countermeasure to avoid any glares he may get from his brother or Madam Yu. Jiang Cheng would manage to catch Nie Huaisang’s eyes every now and again but the contact would be broken after a second by Nie Huaisang. After the fourth or fifth time, Jiang Cheng’s patience was beginning to thin.

“Nie Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng tried to keep his tone even between clenched teeth. Nie Huaisang went still in his spot and the other guardians around them stopped their discussions at the young master’s interruption. “Would you like to show me around the garden?” 

Nie Huaisang answered with a tight smile unable to avoid him anymore, “I never knew you had an interest in nature, Sandu Shengshou.”

“He doesn’t” Madam Yu answered for her son. 

Jiang Fengmian gentle face didn’t waiver even under the rising tension. It was a risky move bringing three of the most prominent cultivators with the shortest tempers in the cultivation world together. He didn’t need to give Nie Mingjue any reason to feel guarded against them. “A tour around the garden is a great way to get to know each other.”

“B-Brother?” Nie Huaisang looked to his elder brother for rescue. He wouldn’t let his young, pure brother out of sight in this critical moment.

“You always loved to run away to the gardens; I’m sure you know the best spots to show Jiang Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue only spared a glance towards his younger brother. Jiang Cheng witnessed the price of Nie Huaisang’s days of escaping practice finally paid back to him in full.

Jiang Cheng strolled along the garden path with Nie Huaisang beside him following his pace. They were finally out of the watchful eye of his parents and Nie Mingjue; lifting off any restraints they were previously shackled under. Now that they were able to speak to speak without reservation they stayed in bitter silence. Jiang Cheng wished he had thought this through before he got them in this situation.

They used to be friends back on their days at Cloud Recesses. After Wei Wuxian left, they had time to grow closer. It was rare for them to be separated from Nie Huaisang that year. Jiang Cheng remembers enjoying his company but the big why evaded him. After they returned to their respective homes and lost contact, their friendship fizzled out. They would see each other at important functions, they were both from prominent sects it was inevitable but nothing more was said to each other than a simple greeting or small conversation. Jiang Cheng was always more concerned about learning his duties as the future Sect Leader. He was uninterested in idle conversations and preferred to shadow to father. He now regretted not attempting to take up a few conversations with Nie Huaisang when they crossed paths. He wouldn’t have to be busting his brain on what they spoke so vividly about those years ago. Jiang Cheng’s eyes drifted down towards Nie Huaisang. “So, what have you been up to lately?” Nie Huaisang stopped playing with the fan in his hand and looked up in query at Jiang Cheng. “What?” Jiang Cheng felt guarded with Nie Huaisang’s unreadable expression concentrated on him.

“You’ve never been one for small talk,” Nie Huaisang turned his attention back to his fan.

“We haven’t had a good talk in years, isn’t it natural to try and catch up?” 

“Because we’re engaged?” Nie Huaisang stopping in his tracks. The Nie Huaisang he was acquainted will those years ago was shy and undeniably a coward. He flinched from a shout and squealed at the sight of a monster or corpse. Meeting those hazel eyes, he felt uneasy for the first time around Nie Huaisang. The other cultivator sighed and continued walking without him.

Jiang Cheng stood there in a daze. It was hard to shake the feeling of discomfort when he struggled to decipher the look in Nie Huaisang’s eyes. When he began to follow Nie Huaisang he travelled a small distance behind opting to let Nie Huaisang lead the way so he could watch his movements from behind. 

Soon they came upon a lake and Nie Huaisang stopped at the shore. Jiang Cheng places himself beside the cultivator and waited. Waited for whatever the cultivator needed to say. 

“I come out here to get away,” Nie Huaisang started. “It’s peaceful.” Nie Huaisang had yet to look at him even with Jiang Cheng’s full attention. Jiang Cheng had wondered why his father chose Nie Huaisang before. Taking his time to take in the present cultivator in front of him maybe he had underestimated his father. Nie Huaisang had a gentle and pure aura surrounding him. It was odd for someone from the Qinghe Nie sect, whose methods were known for their violence but not bad. If he hadn’t been born into the head family of a cultivation clan he would have been praised just for his looks and grace. Nie Huaisang beauty surpassed most of the young masters and mistresses of the cultivation world. If his cultivation was higher then, he would have a far better reputation. He remembers the days when people used to look down on his Shijie, calling her mediocre. Jiang Cheng wasn’t one to fuss too much about one’s cultivation’s level. Nie Huaisang’s physical features and cultivation level were exactly Jiang Cheng’s type. Was it coincidence or did his father have a better understanding of his preferences than he thought?

“I apologize for my behaviour.” Nie Huaisang sighed. Jiang Cheng snapped up and furrowed his eyebrows at the man. “My brother didn’t inform me that he was arranging my engagement to you. I honestly, wasn’t expecting anything of the sort since my brother still has his own love life to be concerned about.”

The cultivator released another heavy breath. Does Jiang Cheng comfort him at this moment? How would he even do that? “The news was sudden for me too.” That was the best he could have done with his the years he’s experienced with his Shijie.

Nie Huaisang did a dark chuckle under his breath, “Must have been to be engaged to the famous headshaker.” So he knew of the whispers about him. The three ‘I don’t know’s, the good-for-nothing. Considering how widespread the gossip was, it had to pass by Nie Huaisang’s ears once or twice. If the words bothered Nie Huaisang, he was a master at concealing it. Jiang Cheng could find no trace of anger or hurt lingering on his face. “Your mother doesn’t seem pleased with me either. Would even dare to say she’s against the whole arrangement.” He wasn’t wrong, but this was Madam Yu. Jiang Cheng contemplated explaining how very few occasions he’s seen his mother look pleased.  Nie Huaisang released his third heavy sigh since they reached the lake. The question weighing on his mind grew stronger and stronger until it forcefully stumbled out of his mouth.

“Are you unhappy with this engagement?” Nie Huaisang snapped his head towards him with his eyes wide. Jiang Cheng hesitated only for a moment before continuing. “If you are then I will talk to my father to cancel it.” Jiang Cheng doesn’t care whether his future partner is arranged or chosen by him. He just doesn’t want to be a part of a tragic relationship, one where they could grow to hate each other. He can’t end up like his parents. Couldn’t stand to put himself through that torture.

Nie Huaisang lips curved up into an unknown smile, “Tell me Sandu Sengshou, have you ever thought to marry for love?”

The answer was already on his tongue but Jiang Cheng dared to reconsider. Maybe the expression on Nie Huaisang’s face made him want to meet the cultivator’s expectations but he couldn’t lie in the end and answered with a cold, “No, never.”

Nie Huaisand ducked his head and chuckled, “Neither, have I.”

Jiang Cheng took a sharp breath in, “Never?”

“Having a love like Hanguang-Jun and Wei Wuxian’s, the thought is indeed beautiful.” Jiang Cheng agreed. His brother was an idiot who acted like a disgusting fool, always wanting his husband to dote on him like a spoilt child. Despite how their affection made Jiang Cheng sick there was no denying that they loved each other completely. It was a love most envied and sought out for themselves. But for him, “But that kind of thing just isn’t for me.” Nie Huaisang shoulders sank. For a split second, Jiang Cheng pitied him. Pitied that a person like Nie Huaisang already shared the same thoughts as him. Had given up on finding their ‘true love’ before even trying. Lost hope that there was any such happiness waiting for him. 

“You are a very beautiful man, Nie Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng tried to save the cultivator some face. “I’m sure quite a few have already fallen for you. Surely one can be satisfied with being loved.”

“You talk as if you don’t have a few cultivators chasing you.”

“I know you aren’t one to turn your ear away from prime gossip,” Jiang Cheng clenched his teeth.

“Sandu Shengshou is well-known for his skills,” Nie Huaisang smirked up at him, “and temper.” There was a strange feeling rising up in Jiang Cheng when he heard the soft sound of laughter from Nie Huaisang. It wasn’t similar to the annoyance he felt when he needed to hit Wei Wuxian, it tugged 

“Rather than being loved, I’ll be satisfied with being content,” Nie Huaisang chewed his lips and flickered his eyes to meet Jiang Cheng’s. “I believe it possible with you.” The words almost missed Jiang Cheng’s ears under the soft voice.

“Oh.”

“So, Sandu Shengshou I’ll ask you, how do you feel about this engagement. Can you be content with me?”

“My name,” Jiang Cheng started after a period of silence. “You should call me by my given name from now on.”

Nie Huaisang flicked his fan open and hid his smile, “How bold of you, A-Cheng.” He said the words slowly savouring the taste on his tongue.

A light pink colour dusted Jiang Cheng’s cheeks. “There’s nothing bold from what’s naturally expected,” he paused, “Sang.” 

“That is so,” Nie Huaisang closed his fan and tipped his head, a small teasing smile playing on his lips. The insides of Jiang Cheng twisted and gnawed at the graceful gesture. Such a simple movement shouldn’t look so beautiful. Nie Huaisang inched closer and wrapped his arm around Jiang Cheng’s so their bodies were squeezed together, “Please treat me well, A-Cheng, I’ll be bothering you from now on.” 

So, this was the start of their loveless engagement.

Extra:

“Was this your plan?” Nie Mingjue asked Sect Leader of the Jiang Yunmeng Sect.  

Jiang Fengmian shook his head and replied “I had no intention of forcing them if it was against their wishes. Jiang Cheng is acting completely on his own wishes.” Nie Mingjue shoulders relaxed and he looked back out into the garden. Unbeknownst to the two young cultivators below, their guardians have moved to a private room which overlooked the garden where they could observe them without being a hindrance. Nie Mingjue watched in curiosity as the famous short-tempered young master of the Jiang Sect allowed his younger brother to wrap his arms around him and listen patiently to whatever Nie Huaisang was running his mouth about. 

“Are you sure he’s not doing this to impress you?” Madam Yu snapped at her husband. Nie Mingjue ignored the tension between them, it was no secret about the strain in the relationship between the two. He’ll rather not to get involved in whatever disagreement they were in the middle of.

“That is a possibility,” Jiang Fengmian kept his famous smile, “But my lady doesn’t A-Cheng  like he’s enjoying himself?” Madam Yu pressed her lips into a thin line as her face darkened. It wasn’t obvious at a glance to those who were not familiar with Jiang Cheng but with enough observation, you could see that Jiang Cheng was indulging in the company of Nie Huaisang, he hung off each word the said and gave his own responses to entertain the other quite contradictory to his one or two sentences said at social gatherings.

“They do look good with each other,” Nie Mingjue mumbled to himself. He watched his little brother speak with a glint of life in his eyes that warmed his elder brother’s heart. “So when do you want to announce the engagement.”

[osakaso5]

ŹOOĻ Special Story - Antagonistic Quarter

Chapter 2 - A Life of Selfish Lies

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Minami Natsume: I was a bit surprised that you'd say something like that to Inumaru-san.

Torao Mido: Whatever. I've already forgotten what I said.

Minami Natsume: I didn't think you were someone who understands the sadness that comes with not having your value recognized, nor the pain of people not needing anything from you.

Minami Natsume: I'm sure you always had people praising and desiring you, people you'd run away to whenever you grew tired of something.

Minami Natsume: If, by any chance, you were actually feeling hurt and having self-doubts...

Torao Mido: Minami...

Minami Natsume: I'd just love to be there to witness it.

Torao Mido: Tsk... Is this some kind of strange fanaticism? Do you think this is funny? Or is your personality really this horrible?

Minami Natsume: No. I just can't be honest with myself. The truth is that I'm worried about you, Mido-san.

Torao Mido: You won't fool me.

Minami Natsume: Ah... The difficulty of being sincere.

Torao Mido: Sorry to let you down, but I'm not hurt or doubting myself in any way. Pathetic emotions like pain and loneliness have no relation to me.

Minami Natsume: My, oh my.

Torao Mido: Aren't you the same? The fact that you used to be a child actor must mean that you were successful from a young age. You probably haven't experienced any hardships either.

Minami Natsume: Of course I have. I've got countless rejections behind me.

Torao Mido: ...Really?

Minami Natsume: Yes. That's exactly why I've become so twisted, you know?

Torao Mido: I don't like that answer...

Minami Natsume: Hee hee, you're so kind. You're not twisted, Mido-san. Though you're also not someone who'd be welcomed by the masses  with open arms.

Torao Mido: Ryo-san told me something similar when I first met him.

Minami Natsume: Oh, what did he say?

Torao Mido: "You're messed up. But it's not your fault. It’s because you were living like an idol before you even had the wish or resolve to be one."

Minami Natsume: ...What does that mean?

Torao Mido: Who knows. I'm still not sure.

- - - -

Torao Mido: Wow, a new hero toy! Thank you, Nii-san!

Torao's Brother: Ahaha. You sure love heroes, Torao!

Torao Mido: Yeah! Defeating bad guys is cool!

Torao's Brother: Oh... Dad's yelling. Sorry, but I gotta go, Torao.

Torao Mido: Dad's so nice... Why is he always angry at you?

Torao's Brother: He has big expectations for me, that's all. It's my job to be the successor of this family. I'm proud that he's treating me like an adult.

Torao Mido: Expectations...

Torao's Brother: That's why you need to do what you like and grow up carefree for my share, too. I'll bring you another toy!

Torao Mido: Thank you!

Maid: Heh... Even our strict master and the young master like to spoil Torao-san. He's such an angelic, adorable boy.

Maid: Master is a kind man at heart, so he must feel the need to spoil his servants and Torao-san to make up for how harshly he treats his oldest son.

Maid: I'm sure he'll grow into a handsome young man, loved by everyone!

- - - -

Torao's Father: Well done! You were the top of your school year, and excelled in your extracurricular activities as well. The Mido lineage couldn't ask for a better son.

Torao Mido: Thank you, Dad.

Torao's Father: And on top of that, you have the same dignified features your mother had when she was young. You're the center of attention at every party you go to.

Torao Mido: Thank you. I wanted to talk to you about university. I'd like to aim for the one Nii-san graduated from.

Torao Mido: That way, I could probably help you two with work...

Torao's Father: You can't study abroad. I won't be able to see your face when I return to Japan. Besides, it's been dangerous around there lately, so a Japanese university is your best option.

Torao Mido: ...Okay...

Torao's Father: You don't need to worry about the company. Just do what you want and live an easy life. Oh, I get it. Do you need more pocket money?

Torao's Father: If there's anything you want to do, tell me. I'll support you in any way I can.

Torao's Father: I, your mother, and your brothers are all here for you. We all want you to be happy.

Torao Mido: Ah, I see... Alright. Thank you. 

- - - -

Woman: Torao-kun, how did dinner with your father go?

Torao Mido: Same as always. He told me to live how I want.

Woman: That's so nice of him! In that case, let's go overseas for our next holiday! To one of your family's fancy hotels!

Torao Mido: Again?

Woman: Can I invite my friends this time? When I told them about our cruise, they all wanted to go, too.

Torao Mido: I don't mind going overseas... But I don't really like your friends. All they do is ask me weird questions.

Woman: That's because you're so cool! Pretty please?

Torao Mido: You're always asking me for things. Can I ask something, too?

Woman: Sure. What?

Torao Mido: Let's go see this movie. It's about an American comic book hero...

Woman: Sorry, I don't like violent stuff. Besides, mainstream movies aren't something celebs watch! I don't think they suit you, Torao-kun!

Torao Mido: Oh, I see...

Torao Mido: Sigh... 

- - - -

Torao Mido: I don't know if everyone loves me or hates me.

- - - -

Door opens

Torao's Father: You call yourself my successor!? You need to do better than this!

Torao Mido: Dad. Ah... you're on the phone with Nii-san?

Torao's Father: ...Oh, Torao. What is it?

Torao Mido: I made my tutor angry...

Torao's Father: It's alright. Don't worry. I'll do something about that. You did nothing wrong, Torao.

- - - -

Woman: You're dumping me for a reason like that!? Why can't you listen to me more, and be nicer to me!?

Torao Mido: What do you mean, "nicer"? I did everything you wanted. You could've listened to me, too...

Woman: Whatever! You can't understand how I feel, anyway. Because you've got everything! 

- - - -

Torao's Father: You want to go backpacking with your friends from university? You can't do that. What if you get kidnapped in some crime-ridden country?

Torao Mido: I'll be fine. Dad, didn't you tell me that I could do what I wanted..?

Torao's Father: You can do anything but that. You're so naive, Torao. Ahaha. That's another thing I love about my adorable youngest son.

Torao's Father: Torao, what do you want to do? What do you wish for? Ask me anything. 

- - - -

Woman: I'm so happy... Just walking around town with you is total bliss.

Torao Mido: ...Oh, is that so?

Woman: Yes... I've always admired you, Torao-san, so just being with you makes me really happy.

Torao Mido: Sigh... I see.

Torao Mido: In that case, don't hold back. What do you want to eat? Is there anything you'd like?

Woman: I don't want anything! Ah... But, there is one thing...

Woman: Could I upload a picture of us on social media?

Torao Mido: .......

- - - -

Torao Mido: I don't know if everyone's being kind or unkind towards me.

- - - -

Torao Mido: I wonder what this person wants.

Torao Mido: I wonder what this person doesn't want.

Torao Mido: If you assume that you can do whatever you want, you'll find out that that's not true. Well, not like it matters.

Torao Mido: It's too difficult and bothersome to think about. They'll be giving you a sweet smile one moment and frowning the next. That's just how people are.

Torao Mido: Irresponsible, insincere, greedy, changing completely depending on the people they're with. I should just live like they do.

Torao Mido: I feel like I used to want something, but I've already forgotten what. Oh well, everyday's fun, so it doesn't matter. People seem to envy me, anyways.

Torao Mido: Even if not every night is fun for me, I'm pretty sure I've never felt unhappy.

Ryo Tsukumo: Hey mister, are you interested in showbiz?

Torao Mido: .........

Ryo Tsukumo: Wow, you didn't even stop to listen! Used to talent scouts, are you?

Torao Mido: You're bothering me. Go away.

Ryo Tsukumo: No, I'm not. You should be interested in what I have to say. After all, you're not a performer, yet your whole life is an act.

Torao Mido: ...What're you talking about?

Ryo Tsukumo: You're the very embodiment of an idol! On one hand, you're allowed to do anything, but on the other, your existence comes with endless guidelines.

Ryo Tsukumo: That's why you're so messed up. But it's not your fault. You're acting like an idol  without the wish or resolve to be one.

Ryo Tsukumo: You're going down the road that many idols with hopes and resolve have collapsed on, with only an empty heart. Well done.

Torao Mido: ..........

Torao Mido: I don't get what you're saying, but okay. Seeya.

Ryo Tsukumo: Wait, wait. Give it some proper thought first. You're enrolled in such a nice university, after all.

Torao Mido: You're a pain in the ass...

Ryo Tsukumo: I just can't bear to see you become unhappy at this rate.

Torao Mido: Me, unhappy? Haha... Do you even know who I am?

Ryo Tsukumo: You are unhappy. It's unhappiness that nobody expects anything from you. Third son of the Mido household, Torao Mido.

Torao Mido: ........

Ryo Tsukumo: Your family treats you like a pet, your peers treat you like an oil magnate. But nobody expects anything from you as a person.

Ryo Tsukumo: I know the feeling very well! I'm an overlooked talent, myself! Though my older brother was the family pet!

Torao Mido: ...Who are you?

Ryo Tsukumo: Finally, I've caught your attention. Ryo Tsukumo. Future president of a talent agency.

Torao Mido: I'm not interested in showbiz. The entertainment industry is full of lies, anyway.

Ryo Tsukumo: What makes you say that?

Torao Mido: I mean... Everybody says so. They lie to get special treatment.

Ryo Tsukumo: Exactly, Torao. I went through awful things because of those lying performers and idols.

Ryo Tsukumo: I want to take revenge on them. I'll expose the truth to all those who see that filthy world as something beautiful.

Torao Mido: ..."Them"?

Ryo Tsukumo: Re:vale, for starters! Ever heard of them? The idol stars that everyone's talking about!

Ryo Tsukumo: Back when they were unpopular, they relied on me, used me, only to break their  promise once they'd made their big break.

Torao Mido: I see... They seemed like nice guys to me.

Ryo Tsukumo: Momo is the Devil incarnate, while Yuki is the very embodiment of Death! They absolutely must be punished. Next up is TRIGGER!

Torao Mido: TRIGGER, too?

Ryo Tsukumo: Exactly. That Ryunosuke Tsunashi guy is a huge liar. He's pretending to be a celeb  like you, but he's actually the son of a fisherman  who's drowning in debt!

Ryo Tsukumo: And there's plenty more! Gaku Yaotome is domineering from the shadow of his father, while Sumire Hanamaki does nothing but beg for vacations now that she's made it big!

Ryo Tsukumo: They're nothing but selfish, crooked, dishonest people who can't be fixed! And yet, they're what's popular nowadays!

Ryo Tsukumo: This world is all wrong...

Torao Mido: ....... Yeah, I guess so...

Ryo Tsukumo: Hey, Torao. Please save me. I don't want to give up just yet. I need your  help in order to deliver some justice.

Torao Mido: ...Justice..?

Ryo Tsukumo: Yes, indeed! I want to defeat Re:vale, TRIGGER, and all those other liars, too!

Ryo Tsukumo: To do that, I need an in to the entertainment business, a beautiful man who can rise the top in the blink of an eye. Someone like you.

Torao Mido: ........

Torao Mido: How do I know you're not lying?

Ryo Tsukumo: I have recordings and documents as proof. I'll send them to you, if you want.

Torao Mido: ...Fine. I'll think about it.

Ryo Tsukumo: I have great expectations for you, Torao.

Torao Mido: ........

Ryo Tsukumo: And I actually mean it when I say that. 

- - - -

Torao Mido: ........

Minami Natsume: Mido-san?

Torao Mido: Ah... No, it's nothing.

Torao Mido: Hey, Minami. Why do you compose music? What got you into it?

Torao Mido: How does one find something they want to do?

Minami Natsume: ........

Minami Natsume: I used to play the piano. Before I became a child actor, I even took lessons. I absolutely loved playing.

Minami Natsume: However, eventually my work got so busy that I had to quit.

Torao Mido: I see.

Minami Natsume: I'm much like the Town Musicians of Bremen. I lost sight of my original goal and remained in place. Despite that, I thought I'd earned my happy ending.

Torao Mido: Was that a bad ending, then?

Minami Natsume: I suppose my story has yet to conclude.

Torao Mido: Oh...

Minami Natsume: I'll head home now. The stars are making me awfully sentimental tonight. I might blurt out something unnecessary.

Torao Mido: ...Alright. Take care.

Minami Natsume: Good night. 

Continued in Part 2...

[hufflly-puffs]

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire 

Chapter 28: The Madness of Mr Crouch

“‘Winky is pining, Harry Potter,’ Dobby whispered sadly. ‘Winky wants to go home. Winky still thinks Mr Crouch is her master, sir, and nothing Dobby says will persuade her that Professor Dumbledore is her master now.’” – I wonder if House-Elves can die from heartbreak? Because most of them are truly devoted to their masters and getting dismissed is the worst that can happen to them. I wonder if there is some sort of magical bond created between them and their masters, that can be transferred through family but not to a new master. It would explain why Winky can’t accept Dumbledore as her new master. And why Dobby, despite the abuse, had a hard time criticizing his former master.

“‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ said Hermione angrily. ‘Listen to me, all of you! You’ve got just as much right as wizards to be unhappy! You’ve got the right to wages and holidays and proper clothes, you don’t have to do everything you’re told – look at Dobby!’ ‘Miss will please keep Dobby out of this,’ Dobby mumbled, looking scared. The cheery smiles had vanished from the faces of the house-elves around the kitchen. They were suddenly looking at Hermione as though she was mad and dangerous.” – And this is the problem with Hermione – she means well and I completely agree with her that the House-Elf system should be destroyed. But she acts like she knows better in front of the House-Elves, criticizing their entire culture and way of living, and she deeply offends them by doing so. She patronizes them (and she also acts that way when she disagrees with Harry and Ron) instead of supporting them.

Hermione gets hate mail after the Witch Weekly article written by Rita Skeeter. One of the letters is even filled with Bubotuber pus, causing Hermione pain. It shows how much power media and therefore Rita Skeeter has. None of the people who wrote a letter actually know Harry or Hermione; they simply assumed that what they read was true. Later we find out that even Mrs. Weasley, who does know Hermione, believed the rumours Skeeter spread about her to some degree. But it also shows that misogyny not only exists among men but among women as well. It isn’t actually stated who wrote those letters – but in my imagination I always assumed they were written by other women, young women especially, who might had a crush on Harry. And this is something we see often enough in real life: the harassment wives and girlfriends of male celebrities have to endure. And neither Harry or Hermione asked for this sort of attention. Harry is famous because something terrible happened to him as a child, Hermione only because she is his friend. (That doesn’t mean people who choose a profession in the spotlight owe you anything or don’t deserve the same respect as anyone else.)

J.K. Rowling paints a very negative image of media here, and continues to do so in book 5. She encourages her readers to question everything they read and not to take everything for granted, especially from the yellow press, and shows the dangerous consequences false accusations can have. What is interesting to me is that by the time she wrote book 4 Harry Potter wasn’t as big as it is now and she wasn’t as much in the spotlight as she is today. The big hype started around the release of book 4 and the first movie adaption (2000/2001). So I’m not sure how much of it is based on personal experience, and I remember reading that she wanted to include the character of Rita Skeeter in an earlier book already.

And while we are talking about J.K. Rowling and the media: I’m neither a fan of stan-culture nor of ‘cancelling’ people. Obviously J.K. Rowling isn’t perfect and she sure has her flaws. But she is not the worst person ever either. So there is that.

Also, if you think Hermione getting hate mail is bad, just imagine how much worse things would have been in times of social media.

“‘These’re Nifflers,’ said Hagrid, when the class had gathered around. ‘Yeh find ’em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff … there yeh go, look.’” – And thus, the perfect merchandise was born.

“‘Must be nice,’ Ron said abruptly, when they had sat down and started serving themselves roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. ‘To have so much money you don’t notice if a pocketful of Galleons goes missing.’” – Money doesn’t matter only to those who have enough of it. And of course, money isn’t everything and money doesn’t equal happiness. But those who say it isn’t important probably never experienced real poverty. And the way it affects every aspect of your life. And it is a reminder that Harry is quite privileged, through the money he has inherited, through his fame, his gender etc. And that Harry is unaware of that privilege. Because that is the way privilege often works, we only notice we have one when it is taken away from us. Or in this case, when somebody points it out to us.

“All those substitutes for magic Muggles use – electricity, and computers and radar, and all those things – they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there’s too much magic in the air.” – Is it only Hogwarts then where electricity doesn’t work? Would it work at a normal wizarding household where there is less magic? Do Muggleborn wizards and witches still use Muggles inventions? Do some Pureblood wizards and witches use them as well, because some of them are quite useful? Does Ron (in present time) has a Netflix account?

When Harry encounters Barty Crouch, what is interesting in the moments Crouch seems to talk to an imaginary Percy is that he mentions his wife and son (who gained twelve O.W.Ls, so he must be around 15 or 16), mixing up two times, because obviously by the time Percy started working for Crouch his wife was already dead and his son a prisoner at his home. But I think in his mind he might wishes back to an easier time, when his family was still intact, his son still innocent. It’s a safe place his mind provides.

“‘I’ll be havin’ a few words with her, an’ all,’ said Hagrid grimly, stomping up the stairs. ‘The less you lot ’ave ter do with these foreigners, the happier yeh’ll be. Yeh can’ trust any of ’em.’” – Oh Hagrid. Don’t be xenophobic asshole. Because Hagrid at times has weird double standard. He says you shouldn’t judge anyone based on the family they are from and yet he did the very thing with Draco (I mean before he knew Draco is an idiot). He deeply loves and cares about monsters, because they are different, because he thinks people are prejudiced against them, but he is full of prejudices himself.

[shining--live]

My Stance On Eiichi (and related discourse)

[WARNING: its long as hell]

Okay so right now (and ever since that Eiichi episode) the utapri fandom has a huge divide, and honestly? Well, idealistically, that divide wouldn't exist. But really, I'd be perfectly content if we could just tolerate each other, like can we at least do that? I think most of us want that. Yeah, I know, who am I to say this? I'm just one random asshole on the internet, I know I can't make a real difference, but y'know, whatever XD 

So in my short absence I did spend time doing some things, watching the episodes, looking at defense and hate and analysis of Eiichi and such... And I got some asks, etc. But I don’t think my views have changed much...

I still personally feel like Eiichi wasn't supposed to become a villain. Really, I think the episode was ONLY meant to show the dark side of Otoya, so I blame the writers more than Eiichi for what happened. I still think that the scene where Eiichi and Otoya are singing together was the writers trying to say "They've made up. What Eiichi did isn't meant to be a permanent indicator of his personality, we just wanted drama for the finale." Of course, some people just take it as Eiichi not doing anything to make up for it, but really I think anger should be targeted at the writers, if anything. It's the writers that had Eiichi dig into Otoya's psyche, and break him. It's the writers that failed to make a proper conclusion to that conflict. If you believe it's being sweeped under the rug, it's the writers that did that. (But still I don’t promote like... harassing on twitter and such.) Personally, I have no idea what Eiichi as a character could do to make up for it, but what I do is just apply the Anime Logic™ that episodes never really have a long lasting effect unless shown or stated otherwise, which wasn’t, Eiichi and Otoya were getting along in the end, which makes me think it’s not supposed to have a long lasting effect on Otoya (or Eiichi) as a character.

But that's just me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and not everyone is like me. 

I think that's the divide right there, between people who blame Eiichi for not apologizing, and people who blame the writers for not writing well. 

 Those who solely blame Eiichi for what happened seem to think that people who like Eiichi don't care about what he did, or think it's fine, or support him. 

 Those who blame the writers seem to think that people who hate Eiichi are just trying to control people's tastes, and say they're bad people. 

Honestly this probably goes deeper than just Eiichi vs anti-Eiichi. This is like... A big divide in how we consume media. Many of us are like me and sit back, relax, and just apply Anime Logic™, but then many others like to look deep into it and find a good cause to fight for, or bring awareness to a social issue. Which, you know, is fine, society has issues and that must be talked about but... 

When I say "Can we all fucking chill?" I mean it in multiple ways. Honestly, it is me kinda forcing my opinion that anime is just for fun on others but. I mean moreso can we just forget about our fucked up society for like five minutes? Anime IS meant to be fun... You don't have to constantly be fighting for a societal cause or anything, it seems exhausting, you know? I've always thought that it's in the interest of your mental health to put down the pitchforks and just ~relax~. Or "fucking chill" XD But really, I don't think I'll ever understand that mindset. Yet I can accept that it exists. Maybe it's that those people are stronger than me? They have the mental strength and determination to focus on an issue and say "I will combat everything about this, no matter how hard it gets." But not everyone is like that, either because they don't have the mental state, or just don't want to.

 I mean... There are many reasons why people would like Eiichi. And no, it's not because they support abuse. 

Sometimes it's because they've filled in their own ideas or headcanon. They take the scene where Otoya and Eiichi are singing together, apply Anime Logic™, asume that Eiichi made up for it in some way, and move on. They look at the good things that were shown about him. That he has determination, he's perceptive. That he's confident and isn't afraid to work and reach for what he wants. Or just that his appearance is nice, that his eyes are a pretty purple, or that he wears glasses. Or maybe they JUST LIKE HIS VOICE. The main idea is that these people just don't take the anime THAT seriously. 

Or others like to analyze deeper... I've seen theories that it's implied that Raging Otori may be emotionally abusive to his sons (("you're losers" etc)). As far as I've seen, these people feel that Eiichi was able to see Otoya's suffering because they both wear a similar “mask”. Some think that he learned his behaviour from his father or experiences with him, and thought that he(Eiichi) could help Otoya because they are both hurting. They see Eiichi as a 3 dimensional character that royally fucked up. Sometimes also applying Anime Logic™ to that scene where they’re getting along, but it just depends on the person. 

Then, some relate to him in some way (and this is kinda my way of looking at it.) Tying into Raging Otori's implied abuse, they relate because they develoed harmful coping mechanisms due to their own abuse, and imagine Eiichi learning and growing from this incident, like they may wish for themselves. Or regardless of theories, some may simply relate to his behaviour because they have hurt people in less extreme ways and tried to make up for it. 

Honestly. When you waltz around and say shit like "Eiichi-apologists don't interact" it just FEELS like you're essentially plugging your ears and saying "anyone who disagrees with me is evil!" which just shuts down any conversation and breaks apart the fandom into factions, which is UNNECESSARY.

To me, it just feels like hating him and any other character is almost a waste of energy? When you hate on ANY CHARACTER, you inevitably add negative energy to the fandom. Either by upsetting people who like Eiichi, or reminding other people who hate Eiichi about their hatred. No matter how you look at it, it just seems to bring pain and negativity to everyone. ((If you want to talk about how what Eiichi did is wrong, that's different than just saying "Eiichi is irredeemable trash." I'm not talking about analysis and conversation, I'm just talking about plain old unbridled, unprovoked hatred.)) 

When you make the conscious choice to show affection for characters you like, it adds positive energy to the fandom. People who like the character are happy, you're happy, the only person who's unhappy is maybe someone who hates the character but like... You really can't please everyone? Idk... At least SOME people are happy in the second scenario... 

I just think it doesn't hurt to be respectful. It doesn't hurt to understand that people who like Eiichi don't just go "yeah I love when he mentally breaks people." But it does hurt when you just assume things about people without knowing shit about them. It makes you look like an ass, and makes the assumed person think you’re an ass-it’s just an overall bad scenario.

Chances are, if you (politely) ask someone why they like Eiichi, they'll give a reason I gave, or even one I haven't mentioned or seen. And on the flip side, if you (politely) ask why someone doesn't like Eiichi, they'll give the reasons that everyone has been saying. We can have a conversation, we can come to agreements. Hell, we could do what the undertale fandom did to Sans and completely change his personality if we god damn wanted to XDD 

 No one side is right or "morally superior" This isn't an "us vs them" battle. We don't have to be at war, we are ALL fans of this stupid idol anime, so Can We All Fucking Chill? 

I (And most people) will always agree that the writers should have done a better job. That Eiichi could have been handled MUCH better. We have Maji Love Kingdom coming out, so maybe the writers will have a flashback to the Eiichi/Otoya makeup? idk we’ll see. I’m pretty sure that heavens is gonna be in the movie so like.... We’ll wait and see, but no matter what happens in the movie I will never agree with comparing Eiichi fans to Eiichi's abusive behaviour, or just randomly attacking them.

Let people enjoy things.

Let people have fun. 

Live and let live. 

 And "Can we all fucking chill?"

(Side note: I think I like Eiichi more now??? Like.. Out of all 18 he’s still in the bottom 10 but, he’s definitely in the top 4 of heavens now XD I don’t even want to like him this just kinda happened through reading shit about him.... smh...)

Also I’m a dumbass that doesn’t know all the fandom tags soooo. Sorry! XD

[pickalilywrites]

Kindness and Cruelty

Rivetra. Canonverse. 

Rivetra Week Day 2: Cruel/Gamble

Word Count: 2,223

He’s never been able to sleep after expeditions. He spends the night trying to wash the blood off his hands, but it seems they’ve been stained red. It’s fine though, he thinks as he scrubs his hands raw, because the roaring of the water of the faucet drowns out the screams of the innocents who died in battle that echo through his mind. Ah, but it’s even worse this time because it wasn’t an expedition; it was a breach in Wall Maria.

He should be used to bloodshed after all his time in the military. He should be used to it because of his time in the Underground. He should be used to it after all the lives he failed to save. But he’s not, and he never will be.

It’s like that dying soldier that afternoon, the one whose hand he clasped. Too young to die, too young to have pledge his life to such a hopeless cause, and too young to know any better. The soldier’s mother was probably grieving for him right now, crying for her dead son.

“Captain,” the young boy had called him. Like he trusted him to lead humanity to victory. To annihilate the Titans. Trusted him to do these things that Levi knew he could never do.

“Captain,” a gentle voice says now.

He turns and there’s Petra, reaching across him to turn off the water.

“I think that’s enough, Captain,” she tells him, pulling his hands away from the sink and drying them with a towel. She frowns when she sees the streaks of red that stain the rag. “You’re bleeding now.”

“I was trying to wash that off,” Levi mutters, pulling his hands away from her. He has the urge to switch on the water again and thrust his hand beneath the scalding water, but he knows she’ll only scold him so he continues to wipe his hand even though he’s only his smearing more blood onto the rag.

Gentle hands cover his, and she looks up at him. “Wash it again, gently this time,” Petra says. “I’ll get bandages to stop the bleeding.”

He knows how to tend to his own wounds and doesn’t need her to coddle him. It’s late though and she’s already walking to the cabinets where the bandages are kept, so he might as well just wash off the blood again.

“Give them here,” Petra says. She pats his hands dry after he finishes washing and wraps the bandages around his hands where they are cracked and bleeding. “Captain Levi, you’re a strict captain. But you’re a kind man.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is there a reason why you felt the need to say that to me at this time?”

“The look on your face,” she replies. “It’s the look of a troubled man with sins on his shoulders. But those sins aren’t yours, so shed them off. And everyone else might think you’re a cruel captain, but we know all know you hate the sight of our blood the most. You’re not a bad man.”

He glances at her briefly before taking the bandages away from her. “That’s enough,” he says.

His soldiers’ movements have grown sluggish and Gunter and Auruo have nearly collided while training with the 3DMG, so he calls off training for the rest of the day. They can take a break or maybe a fucking shower since they stink of mud and sweat.

“That captain of ours must be some sort of sadist,” Eld says when he thinks Levi is out of earshot. “If we’re not eating or shitting, we’re running drills all day.”

Gunter elbows Eld in the gut, either because his comrade is whispering too loudly or using such vulgar language, and hisses, “Hey, complain about it later, will you?”

“I don’t remember what it was like to not be sore all over the place,” Auruo groans, rubbing the muscles in his arms.

“It hurts now, but he’s doing us a kindness, isn’t he?” Petra asks. She stretches her arms over her head and winces at the soreness of her whole body. “We’d be easy Titan fodder outside of the Walls otherwise.”

“Kindness is a strange way to put it,” Eld says, but he ruffles Petra’s hair anyway and gives her a grin.

“So tell me, Petra,” Levi says, observing the way his tea swirls around in his nearly empty cup. “Give me your honest opinion.”

She sits across the table from him, her teacup tilted upwards mid-sip. Her lips part, and she tilts her head curiously at him. “Honest opinion, sir?” she repeats.

“That’s what I said.”

“About what, sir?”

“About me,” he replies, setting his cup down on the table. He leans back in his chair to observe her better and notices that she doesn’t even flinch at the withering glare he gives her. “You really think I’m a kind man? Or are you seeking favors from me?”

Frustratingly enough, she doesn’t give him an answer straightaway. Instead she takes a long, slow sip of her tea before she speaks again. “I think, sir, that you’re quite rude.”

“Rude?” If he hadn’t already set down his tea cup, he’d be slamming down on the table right now out of annoyance. Rude? Him? He’s heard people say it – Hanji, Erwin, nearly everybody else behind his back – but how dare she say it to his face?

“Don’t be offended, sir,” she says, not even batting an eyelash when his clenched fist comes down on the table. “You did tell me to be honest after all, and it is quite rude to assume that I lied to win your favor, don’t you think?”

He gives her an unhappy grunt that means neither “yes” or “no.”

“Did you want me to say more, or have you heard enough of my thoughts regarding you?” she asks. The raised cup hides most of her mouth, but he can see the upturned corners that hint at a teasing smile.

“Just say it outright,” he growls at her.

Petra sets her cup down finally, revealing her amused grin. “I meant it the very first time I said it, Captain,” she tells him. “I think you’re a kind man.”

Those are all the words she says, and he finds that he has no words in response. He observes her instead with that cold, steely gaze that makes others turn away. To his surprise, she gazes back at him without even blinking.

He’s the one who finally looks away, standing up and holding out a hand. “Give me your cup. You’re done drinking, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t say anything. Just hands him her cup with that smile on her face.

He always thought himself as cold, but perhaps he wasn’t cold enough.

“Levi?” she says quietly. “Did you hear me?”

Of course, he heard her. How could he not in the quiet of this goddamn hall? If anything, she’s said it too loud. Not loud enough to wake the others and have them overhear the dangerous words she speaks, but loud enough for the three words to echo in his mind, to pound through his heart, and haunt him in the middle of the night.

“It’s late.”

“So you’re just going to pretend that this never happened?” she asks, her voice quivering. Her hands, which had been nervously clasped just moments before, begin to reach for her mouth as if to stop any other words from coming out. “Why…?”

He wants her name to roll off his tongue, slip between his lips, but he knows that will hurt her more. “Ral,” he says. “It’s late.”

Throughout this whole time, she hasn’t turned away, not even as her eyes begin to well up with tears that threaten to fall at any moment now.

“I know why you’re being so cold. I’m sure you’re doing me a kindness, and I’m sure I’ll thank you later on. But why does it hurt so much?”

Who’s crueler? He wonders. Is it her for confessing these feelings that can never be returned, or is it him for having to turn her away? And does she know that this hurts him too?

Somehow there’s something familiar about how he’s turning away from her now, shutting the door in her face and pretending not to hear her muffled sobs from the other side.

He’s never liked sleeping, but he’s more afraid to do it tonight in this empty castle. He knows they’ll come back to haunt him, ask him why he didn’t come in time and why he had to leave them behind. He has answers to these questions, but none of them will be good enough. There’s no excuse.

But what he’s frightened of the most is seeing her face again, a sad, sorrowful smile as she tells him that it’s fine that he abandoned her. That he had declared their corpses to be useless now that they were dead. That he couldn’t even keep the fucking badge from her goddamn jacket.

And he knows that her ghost will comfort him, tell him that he did what must be done, and that it doesn’t matter that the other soldiers will believe him to be a cruel monster because she knows the truth.

Kind or cruel, she still ended up dead, but maybe he should have been kinder. 

You know what was cruel? The first night. The very first night when he was working late, and she and the rest of his soldiers had just arrived at the castle.

“Captain?”

He looks to his side where one of his new subordinate stands, her hand gently on the sleeve of his shirt.

“What?” he grunts. Unused to being touched by anyone, he pulls his arm away from her a little too quickly. He clears his throat before speaking again. “What are you doing here so late at night?”

“Can’t one ask the same of you?” she says in reply. When she notices his narrowed eyes, she tacks on a quick “Sir” at the end.

He looks at her and she flinches from his gaze before looking back at him, biting her lip as if she’s afraid she’s said the wrong thing.

“Paperwork,” he finally tells her, tapping his pen onto the forms he has yet to read over and sign. “What’s your excuse, soldier?”

“Ral, Sir. Petra Ral.” She stands at a salute, her fist over her heart, before letting the hand fall back to her side. There’s a sheepish smile on her face when she answers his question. “I had trouble sleeping, Sir, so I came down to make a cup of tea and noticed your light was on. And, ah, your door was open, but you didn’t notice that I came in.”

No, he supposes he didn’t. Too preoccupied with all these goddamn forms that Erwin wants him to sign, and he keeps feeling himself nod off because reading these tiny printed characters bores him to death.

“Were you that eager to read these forms?” Levi asks, rapping a few of them on his desk. “You’ll have to climb the racks a little higher first.”

She blinks a bit, not getting the joke. “Actually, Sir, I was just popping in to ask if you’d like a cup of tea too.”

It’s strange to be having a cup of tea in the middle of the night, but he’s never been fond of sleeping anyway. “Bring it over when you’ve made it,” he tells her, turning his back on her.

“Of course, Captain.” He’s sure she gives him another salute before she leaves, one he doesn’t see, but he hears her retreating footsteps and nearly forgets all about her until she comes back later that night as he begins to fall in and out of consciousness.

“Captain?” she says softly, setting the tray down. It’s a whole pot of tea but there’s only one cup. “Your tea is ready.”

He waves his hand around at where she’s left the tray. “Just leave it there,” he mutters. He rubs at his face to help himself wake up a little. “And head back to bed yourself, Ral. It’s late.”

“Yes, Sir.” There’s that salute again. He should really tell her to stop. It’s unsettling to have it done so many times, not to mention a waste of energy as well. Ah, but that’s a conversation for another day when it’s not so late and he’s not so tired.

He’s about to turn back to his papers and attempt to read through them again, but he hears her footsteps stop for a second. When he turns around, he sees Petra stuck between his room and the hallway outside.

“Spit it out,” he says somewhat impatiently.

“I just wanted to say,” Petra says hesitantly, “good night.”

It’s his turn to stare blankly at her, not quite processing her words. He wonders if he should just ignore her and return to his papers, but he’s been rude enough to her. Awkwardly, he mumbles, “Yes, good night.”

And that’s when she does it, the cruelest thing she could ever do. She smiles at him. He doesn’t know it then, but that smile is the worst thing that will ever happen to him because he’ll look for it in her face every time he sees her, and it’ll kill him when he never sees it again.

[stargleeksil-blog]

Criminal Minds S07E05 “From Childhood’s Hour” review

Episode 05 – From Childhood’s Hour

Okey dokey, so I am officially scared because this title is giving me the creeps - I hate episodes revolving around abduction/torture/murder of children ... please tell me I’m wrong.

Let’s see what happens ... I think.

Oh my god, we’re meeting one of Rossi’s ex-wives! That is so fucking awesome! I’ve wanted to meet them for a while.

“Well, I’ve changed.”

He’s not eating fruit for the health of it, the last time I checked he’s a cigar-puffing, meat-loving Italian - just what the doctor ordered for this gal.

“Okay, the cantaloupe is for your benefit.”

“When we were married, you were always warning me about clogged arteries.”

“Nobody lives forever.”

“So how’s San Francisco?"

“You know, I’m really glad you called me.”

“It would be nice if we saw each other more than once every three or four years.”

“Well, there are all those serial killers. They’re pretty serious.”

“No, there isn’t.”

“How about you?”

“Damn it, I …”

“Look, how much longer are you gonna be in town?”

“Why don’t you come over to my place for dinner before you head back?”

“I still make a master cioppino.”

“Great.”

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late. I got hung up on something.”

“What do we got?”

“A child abduction in St. Louis.”

“Yeah. Bobby Smith, nine years old, vanished 48 hours ago from a residential area, where his mother, Marlene Smith, claims to have dropped him off.”

“48 hours and we’re just learning about it now?”

“Yeah. That’s ‘cause mom didn’t know her son was gone.”

“She assumed that he was with the grandmother and just left him there.”

“So, she’s not exactly on the short list for mother of the year.”

Ooh, sarcastic JJ. We don’t get to see her that often.

“What about the father?”

���Uh, he was convicted of embezzling form his workplace two years ago. Currently cooling his heels in state prison.”

“If it’s a stranger abduction, the first 24 hours are critical. This kid’s already been missing twice that long.”

“Which is why we shouldn’t waste any more time. Let’s go.”

Edgar Allan Poe: “From childhood’s hour I have not been as others were, I have not seen as others saw.”

Okay, this dude is officially freaking me out. Edgar, baby, who hurt you?

“St. Louis.”

“Oh, probably a couple days.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Bye.”

It’s so cute to see him so infatued with love.

“What?”

Busted.

“Nothing. Just somebody’s got a lot of extra pep in their step this morning, that’s all.”

“Probably doubled up on his vitamins.”

“Oh, he doubled up on something.”

Morgan, you little shit!

“Garcia, what have you got on the mother?”

“Oh, I have so much on the mother, and try as I might, none of it is good. Marlene Smith has a history of erratic behavior, seriously clinically depressed, two suicide attempts in the last five years.”

“Was she being treated for her depression?”

“Oh, my gosh, yes. Like more pill-popping than Elvis. Yes.”

“Depression is one of the few things that can overwhelm the maternal instinct.”

“What about the grandmother?”

“I don’t have anything on her yet, but don’t reach for your remote.”

“I’ll be ba-a-ck.”

She’s so cute.

“Two suicide attempts.”

“Why hasn’t child services intervened?”

“Probably talked her way out of it.”

“Most social service organizations are overworked and underfunded.”

“Things slip through the cracks.”

“If this boy’s mother tried to commit suicide and he’s from a chronically unhappy household, maybe this wasn’t an abduction at all.”

“What if Bobby simply ran away?”

“When nine-year-olds escape, they’re usually home for supper.”

Aww, he used the proper noun for the meal.

“JJ, you and I will talk to the mother.”

“Morgan and Reid, go to the boy’s house.”

“Prentiss, you and Dave assess the site where the mother claims to have dropped him off.”

“This is Agent Jareau.”

“How’s the mother doing?”

“I think you should talk to her alone.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll watch from here.”

“Mrs. Smith? I’m Agent Jareau. Jennifer. I’m with the FBI.”

“Our entire team is here and we’re the best at what we do.”

“We’re gonna need your help, okay?”

“I have a boy of my own. He’s almost three.”

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”

“Can you tell me what happened the morning you dropped him off?”

“And what does one of your bad days look like?”

“Is that why you took him to his grandmother?”

“And you had done this in the past?”

“Cheerful.”

“Depression is a vicious cycle.”

“It frequently manifests itself in the degradation of one’s personal living environment, which is turn fuels the depression, which then worsens the living environment.”

“All right, I’ll take a look around in here.”

“Why don’t you check the kitchen?”

“Ah, the kitchen.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Frankly, I’m not too anxious to see the perishable food version of this room.”

Reid, you little sarcastic poodle! I love you so much!

“You didn’t call ahead before you dropped him off?”

“Please help me understand, Mrs. Smith. It takes ten seconds to leave a message.”

“Four pairs of shoes.”

“Why exactly is that relevant?”

“Come on, Reid, how many women you know only have four pairs of shoes in their closet?”

“My experience in and around women’s closets isn’t exactly extensive enough to really formulate an opinion.”

“The answer is none.”

“You can take my word for it.”

Oh my God, I am seriously starting to look forward to scenes with just the two of them. Oh my god, this is the best.

“Mom has serious financial issues, denies herself even the smallest luxury, and yet …”

“Splurges to take her son to an expensive theme park and then buys a pricey picture frame so he can remember the experience.”

“Based on our assessment, we need to reprioritize.”

“The concern for her son was genuine.”

“Her tone of voice, body language. She didn’t once ask if she was in trouble, under arrest, where’s my lawyer? None of that.”

“Home environment points the same direction.”

“The money’s tight, but mom did whatever she could to create a nice world for her son. Whatever cash she had she spent on him.”

“Only four pairs of shoes in her closet.”

Oh JJ’s look of ... what sort of woman has only four pair of shoes ... this one.

“And she taught her son to be self-sufficient.”

“The kitchen was scaled down to a nine-year-old’s level so he could microwave his own meals, get food and utensils from the pantry.”

“He even had his own little key ring so he could come and go as he pleased.”

“How it’d go?”

“It took a while, but grandma’s alibi checked out. She was with two lady friends in Seneca, other side of the state.”

“Acquaintances, relatives, teachers. So far they’ve all checked out.”

“This is starting to look more and more like a stranger abduction.”

“Yeah, except the area Bobby disappeared from has a decent amount of foot traffic.”

“If he’d put up a struggle, chances are someone would have noticed.”

“My guess is Bobby knew his abductor or trusted him.”

“The trip to grandma’s house was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

“The unsub must have been staking out the mother’s house, saw them leaving, and followed.”

“Self-sufficient kids learnt to trust their own judgment.”

“How did the unsub get into Bobby’s life?”

“And what’s he trying to accomplish?”

“There’s something strange about the body.”

“She was slaughtered by someone completely out of control, yet on her wrists there are precise wounds on top of where she already cut herself, only deeper.”

“Like he was trying to replicate her suicide attempts but then lost control.”

“Maybe this was never about the kid at all, but about the mother.”

“Make her suffer for a few days by taking the child, then kill her?”

“It means he knew her personal history.”

“I’ll call Garcia.”

“Hey, baby girl, whatever you’re doing, drop it.”

“Oh, yes, and with pleasure.”

“Let me tell you something, sweetheart.”

“This is a Lamborghini you’re talking to.”

“You have to drive me.”

“You can’t just leave me parked in the garage collecting dust or I will wilt.”

“Please forgive my neglect.”

“I need you to rev up that fine-tuned Italian engine of yours, then.”

“Revving.”

“Our unsub had personal details about Marlene Smith, so I need you to figure out who might have been in her house recently.”

“Cable guy, plumber, people like that.”

“Yeah, I always wonder about plumbers.”

“You know they peek in your medicine cabinet.”

“You just know it.”

“Maybe try a phone repairman or babysitter.”

“Check computers in the house.”

“Maybe she used one of those techie fix-it type dweebs who make house calls.”

“Hey, watch it. Language.”

“You know I’m just playing with you, but come on, put a rush on it.’

“Clock’s ticking, okay?”

“Rush is the only speed a Lamborghini has.”

“Proud techie dweeb over and out. Beep beep ya.”

Another one.

Shit.

“Morgan and Reid, head over there.”

“Were you by yourself?”

“You told the police you live in McKinley Heights.”

“That’s almost an hour away.”

“You drove your son all the way out here to play?”

“Mrs. Tanner, please don’t take this the wrong way, but exactly what drug are you addicted to?”

“You’re displaying symptoms of withdrawal.”

“Ma’am, we saw two deals going down on the other side of the park when we arrived. You were here to buy, weren’t you?”

“That’s what had you distracted.”

“Your child is missing, Mrs. Tanner. Every minute, every half-minute counts.”

“You need to tell us the truth and you need to tell us now.”

“So we got one mom suicidal and the other addicted to drugs.”

“At least we got a pattern developing.”

“And if the unsub holds to pattern, he’s gonna circle back and try to kill her.”

“We’re looking for a male unsub in his mid- to late 20s, physically fit enough to subdue Marlene Smith and carry out a vicious and sustained attack.”

“We believe he sees himself as a rescuer, taking children away from unfit parents.”

“He may very well have abandonment issues from his own childhood.”

“The impulse nature of committing the murder out in the open suggests that he’s inexperienced.”

“The violence on Marlene Smith went from precision to frenzy, which points to someone with classic psychopathic traits, quick to rage and quick to recover.”

“He also appears to have insider knowledge of the families in these cases, so we need to look for someone who is privy to what went on behind those closed doors.”

“Emergency personnel were called to the Smith house after both suicide attempts and once to the Tanner house after the mother overdosed on prescription drugs."

“That means first responders, child service workers, ambulance personnel.”

“Both missing children apparently went without struggle or protest.”

“And we’ve taken the second mother into protective custody.”

“That’s why it’s critical we find these kids. If they’re alive, he may turn his violence against the children themselves.”

“We got lucky.”

“Whoever took him let him go.”

“Your son was checked out by a pediatrician. There was no sexual or physical abuse.”

“Did you see another little boy there?”

“Is he okay?”

“Good.”

“Were you in a dark place or did it have windows?”

“Okay.”

“So when he took you, did you drive in the car for a long time or a short time?”

“Can you tell us what the man looked like?”

“Timothy. When this man came to the park to get you, were you afraid?”

“Why not?”

“The phone. You talked to him on the telephone?”

“Can you show us?”

Fuck.

The fucking kids’ phone.

“Garcia, any progress with the 911 dispatcher?”

“I’m going as fast as I can, which is super fast.” 

“There are literally hundreds in the great St. Louis area. Can you help me narrow this down?”

“Refine your search to males between 25 and 30 years of age.”

“And our unsub probably has abandonment issues, so look for backgrounds to reflect that.”

“A history of foster care or someone who was farmed out to other relatives by own parents.”

“Can you trace individual 911 dispatchers based on calls they would have received?”

“Okay, look, let me make this clear. There are a quarter of a billion 911 calls annually.”

“That’s like ten calls every second of every day. And non-emergent calls are disposed of quickly.”

“Well, this operator would have been on duty when both calls came in from the Smith and Tanner families.”

“And he would have been off duty at the time of the two abductions and Marlene Smith’s murder.”

“Oh, my God. This brings needle in a haystack to a whole other dimension, but I will go to that dimension and I will cross-reference and I will call you back.”

“A mother who wants to kill herself. What does that say to a child?”

“That you’re not worth sticking around for?”

“A 911 operator would be why the kids trusted him.”

“The unsub must have gone back to the house to do some sort of follow-up on his own and they remembered his face.”

Hello?

“Rossi?”

“Did you hear me?”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Uh … Morgan and I were joking on the jet, but something is definitely up.”

“Is there anything you want to share?”

“It’s nothing that … I had breakfast with Carolyn the other morning.”

“Carolyn.’

“Oh!”

“Is that wife number four or five?”

“Look, let’s get our facts straight. I only had three wives.”

“I mean, that’s within the realm of reasonable.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Which one was Carolyn?”

“Numero uno.”

“Use your words, Emily.”

“Uh … there’s always something about the first, in anything.”

“I don’t know, I might be way off here, but I think she’s putting some feelers out to see if that old spark is still there.”

“Is it?”

“I’m having her over to my house for dinner when I get back.”

“I’m crazy, right?”

“We don’t always get second chances in life, Rossi.”

“I say take the plunge, see where it goes.”

“Talk to me, mama.”

“First off, you are on restriction from my inner Lamborghini.”

“Garcia …”

She’s dead.

“I mean it. This high-performance engine may purr like a puma on the prowl, but this time, Derek, you have seriously overheated my engines and I will require some cool-down laps upon your return, if you know what I mean by that.”

“Baby girl, you’re on speaker.”

...

“I knew that.”

“I’m calling to tell you, sir, there are eleven 911 dispatchers in the greater St. Louis area that were on duty when the calls were placed but not working during the murder and abduction.”

“Of those eleven, there’s one that fist your profile …”

“George Kelling, age 27, 1181 Clay Street, apartment 8. Sending his picture right now.”

“You know where he is now?”

“He was scheduled to work today. His supervisor said he showed up for his shift, but then he left early.”

Duh.

“Can you get the log of all the calls he took tonight?”

“Yeah, of course. But there are a lot.”

“Skip to the last one.”

“Last one is a domestic disturbance at 788 4th Avenue, number C.”

“Attempted sexual assault of a young girl. Kelling dispatched the police and then he took off.”

“Let’s go.”

“Clear!”

“It’s clear!”

“The door’s open and the lights are on. The unsub beat us here.”

“What have you got?”

“Nothing. The place is empty.”

“If the unsub’s keeping the kids, he’s holding them someplace else.”

“What have you got, Garcia?”

Come on, baby girl.

“At ten years of age, George Kelling entered the foster care system and I don’t know why.”

“His father abandoned the family when he was a baby.”

“I can’t figure out what happened to mom yet.”

“All right, we need the address of the foster family he was placed with.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. He bounced around a lot. Give me a second, I’ll call you back.””

“Okay.”

“Okay, what I don’t understand is why would he keep Bobby but release Timothy?”

“If he wants to get rid of the parent, why not kill them first and then take the child. It’s so much riskier to wait.”

“Unless the children are a crucial part of his killing ritual.”

“How?”

“He needs something from them before he can murder the parents.”

“What could they possibly give him?”

“Their approval. That’s what he wants them to say. He’ll hurt her if she doesn’t, because that means she’s weak, too.”

“Déjà vu all over again.”

“So get this. George Kelling’s mom committed suicide when he was ten.”

“She jumped off a bridge.”

“Before that, she attempted to kill herself multiple times, cutting her wrists.”

“This sounds really familiar, huh?”

“Did you find the foster home address?”

“Those records are still sealed.’

“I got my crowbar out, I’m working on it.”

“The foster family lived on a farm ten miles northwest of the city on Parkhill Road. The rest of the team is gonna meet us there.”

“So what happened to the foster parents?”

“The father died years ago.”

Damn.

“The mother just died last month – heart attack.”

“That must have been the trigger. The last person who rescued the unsub was gone.”

“He assumed the mantel.”

“And now he suddenly has a house to take these kids to.”

“Wait. Garcia, you said the mother jumped off of a bridge, right?”

“Yeah. Why? What are you thinking?”

“Suicidology is an imperfect science, but it’s uncommon for women to kill themselves so violently.”

“For lack of a better word, they tend to choose more feminine ways to die.”

“Men shoot themselves, jump off buildings onto pavements.”

“Women are less messy. They take pills and drown themselves.”

“Reid and JJ and I will take the front.”

“The rest of you take the perimeter.”

“FBI. Put the gun down.”

“Drop the gun. Do it.”

“Like you were strong with your mother?”

“I don’t think so.”

Oh shit. He killed his mom? Damn.

“We need medical.”

Ernest Hemingway: “All things truly wicked start from an innocence.”

Jeez, Hemingway. What the fuck? Why you gotta be so glum?

“We got all the kids back safe. Think about it, Aaron. How often does that happen?”

“Not often enough.”

Word.

“How about ten pairs of shoes? I mean, that has to be enough, right? Ten?”

“Ah, Spence, it’s different with the ladies.”

“We need them to match our belts, our handbags, our skirts, and the fashions change with the seasons.”

“Yes. Boys are so boring.”

“Pants, shoes, out the door.”

I love you, Penelope!

“Although it’s not like men don’t have their things.”

“I dated a golfer once.”

“He had twelve putters in his closet.”

“But this conversation is reminding me I need new boots.”

“They’re having a sale at DeMille’s on those tall-shaft kitty heels. You like those. Do you want to go?”

“Yeah.”

“You getting all this, kid?”

“No.”

Oh my fucking god, he’s so cute!!!! And Reid, don’t feel bad. We, women, are complicated beings. You should never try to understand us.

Ooh, dinner in the  mansion with Rossi. Romantic.

“Done.”

“Sit down, relax.”

“You gotta love any dish that recommends the wearing of a bib.”

Really? Well, I guess it does mean you slurp like there’s no tomorrow and no one can judge you ... so I guess it makes perfect sense.

“You know, I don’t remember you as being a big wine drinker.”

She needs courage? For what?

“When did you ever need that with me?”

“You know, who would have thought that we’d find ourselves on a date again after all these years?”

He’s so fucking cute, taking Emily’s advice and being all hopeful and adorable.

“We joked we were the only couple that had both marriage and divorce vows.”

“Hey, what’s going on with you?”

“Carolyn …”

She has ALS. Fuck.

“Why didn’t you call me earlier? I could have …”

Oh my fucking god, poor Rossi.

So this episode was just the most awful fucking thing ever. How the fuck can you abduct children and then kill their mommies? And how the fuck can you kill your own? I would die before I had to do that. I am going to kill that motherfucker ... oh wait, he’s fictional. Shit.

At least he’s in fictional jail.

And then there’s the whole Carolyn sublot ... and here I was thinking this season was going to be a refresher one.