#i like gavelle though that’s actually pretty smart

[un-pearable]

sorry eustace and eddie i will be deadnaming you

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch8: Adler vs Adler

Chapter Summary: The gloves are off in court as Frank faces off against his mother.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Talk of suicide.

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Contains SPOILERS for the film!!!!! If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. Also, those of you who do know this film well will see that I’ve changed the dates referenced in the court case, that’s because I brought the timeline of Gifted forward from 2015 (when it was filmed) to 2017 (when it was released). This was mainly to suit Fliss’ backstory of the Olympics. 2015 is too close to 2012 for me to make it work. Also Frank’s middle name is an absolute H/C too as I couldn’t find it anywhere so, sorry if this annoys any of you but, to quote @icanfeelastormbrewing- “my coffee, my fic, my rules…”

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 7

“And love, if your wings are broken, borrow mine so yours can open too…’cause I’m gonna stand by you”

 The first bit of evidence the next morning was the findings of the Welfare Department’s investigation. It had thrown nothing out of the ordinary up. The house was clean enough, Mary was fed, but they did point out that their current living arrangements wouldn’t be suitable for much longer as Mary would need her own room as she grew older, something which Frank’s attorney accepted on behalf of Frank, stating to the court that Frank had already considered this. Which in fairness he had. The Welfare Department continued then, stating that Mary’s interview the previous day hadn’t thrown up anything of concern, even if there were some questionable TV viewing habits, namely Ultimate Fighting on a Saturday night, but they were satisfied that overall Mary was suffering no ill effects, mentally or physically from being with Frank.

This took them just under an hour, as they were factual reports. Both Attorney’s requested clarification on certain points but there were no questions or cross examinations to be done. As such they had concluded just after eleven am and there was then a small ten minute break to allow a quick consultation between clients and attorney’s before Evelyn was to take to the stand. As people moved around, passing papers and files to one another, Frank turned in his seat and just as he glanced round, someone left the courtroom and through the open door Fliss walked in, dressed in a smart pair of black jeans and a light blue strappy top. He flashed her a smile and she gave a small wave, settling onto a seat next to Roberta who gave her a hug. She’d missed the early session due to having to sort the horses out but she’d cleared her diary and brought in cover for the rest of the day so she could be there to lend him support.

And even though the morning had, all in all, been favourable to him, Frank felt his spirits raise even more at the sight of her there in his corner so to speak. Tearing his eyes away from her, Frankturned back to Greg who was watching him, eyebrow raised.

“Well that’s a mighty big smile Frank.”

“I just spotted some additional back up, that’s all.” Greg turned to see the woman who was now talking to Roberta and he grinned, spinning back to Frank “Let me guess, Fliss?”

Frank nodded “Yeah, I’ll introduce you later.”

Greg raised his eyebrow, smiling a little. “I look forward to it. Anyway, back to business. That opening report from the Welfare Department was good, well as good as it’s gonna get. But dude, Ultimate Fighting? Really?”

“It’s harmless fun.” Frank shrugged

Greg shook his head “Whatever. This next bit ain’t gonna be as easy.” “No shit.” Frank mumbled, looking at his mother as she said something to Highsmith, her attorney. “She’s going to rip me to pieces, and no doubt enjoy doing it too.” “Yep.” Greg nodded “But just keep doing what you’re doing. No outbursts, stay quiet, focussed and listen. If she says something that isn’t accurate, or you think of anything we can use, note it down and I’ll use it in my cross examination, okay?” Frank nodded as Judge Nicholls banged his gavel down and issued instructions for everyone to reconvene. He called Evelyn to the stand where she was sworn in and Highsmith stood up and began firing questions at her, a well-practiced dance, Frank could tell.

From the gallery Fliss watched intently. She’d been missed the first session but Roberta had hastily filled her in, telling her it had gone well. She shot Frank another encouraging smile, just as the judge called them back to order, and couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his suit. A far cry from his dirty jeans and ratty work t-shirts. Which, if she was honest, she preferred…

Evelyn took to the stand and Fliss felt herself bristling as she proceeded to utterly character assassinate Frank, depicting him as nothing more than an irresponsible bum, floating around with no purpose to life, a man who didn’t care about Mary’s welfare, preferring to simply fly by the seat of his pants instead of giving her any decent roots or thoughts to her needs. At one point, they started to question his motivations towards taking Mary being more about punishing Evelyn that actually caring about the girl. To this Frank’s attorney objected and as the two lawyers began to argue, Fliss found her nails cutting into her palms as she clenched her fists. Roberta gently reached out and squeezed her arm and she turned to the woman next to her and gave her a tight smile.

“Frank’s attorney, Greg Cullen, he’s good…” Roberta whispered, “He’ll go at her when he gets his chance, you’ll see.”

The objection was overruled, the judge telling Cullen he would get his chance to challenge that statement in his cross examination, and Cullen sat down, leaning over to whisper something to Frank who nodded, his eyes not once leaving his mother. Cullen jotted something down as Evelyn continued.

By the time she finished it was almost one pm so they broke for lunch, Judge Nicholls instructing everyone to be back in an hour. Fliss and Roberta headed outside to wait for Frank who met them shortly after.

“Hey.” Fliss gave him a gentle hug. “How you holding up?”

“About as well as I can for someone whose own mother just tore them to shreds under oath.” Fliss’ eyes narrowed “I hope your guy is gonna give her as much of a shredding as she gave you.” “I’ll do my best.” A voice spoke from behind them. Fliss spun round to be greeted by Frank’s attorney.

“Fliss, this is Greg Cullen, Greg, Fliss Gallagher.” Frank introduced them to one another. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Greg smiled at her, shaking her hand. Fliss looked up at Frank and was surprised to find a faint flush of red on his cheeks.

“All good I hope?” she grimaced and Cullen nodded.

“Oh, very good indeed. I’ve been dying to meet the woman who’s made such an impression on him.” “Greg, piss off.” Frank groaned in a tired voice before he nodded over the road to the café “Shall we grab some lunch?”

They ate together, making small talk, before Greg requested Frank join him alone for fifteen minutes to go over their plan for the rest of the afternoon. Frank stood, and without even thinking about it gave Fliss a quick peck on the cheek. He winced as soon as he had, noticing that Cullen and Roberta were watching him and, knowing Fliss was going to get an absolute drilling from Roberta, he shot her an apologetic look as he walked away. She simply smiled through her blush and shook her head, turning to Roberta who nudged her arm.

“Okay, what was that?” Greg asked as they walked back over the road. “Are you two erm…”

“It’s complicated.” Frank shrugged after a little pause. “We both, well we both like each other but with everything that’s going on we’re just kind of waiting, I suppose. I’m focussing on getting through whatever it is that happens with Mary and then hopefully...what?” he trailed off as Greg was smirking at him.

“Frank Adler. Finally found a girl he likes that much he ain’t simply trying to get her into bed. Wait till I tell the guys.”

Frank rolled his eyes and pointed to the courtroom “How about you concentrate on what’s gonna go on in there instead of what is or isn’t going on in my bedroom?”

Greg gave out a chuckle and patted his friend on the shoulder as they made their way in and headed into the side room they had reserved.

****

“Mrs. Adler, in your earlier testimony here today, you painted a pretty dim picture of your own son don't you think?” Cullen asked, tapping his pen on his note pad. Frank remained stony faced, watching his mother.

“I'm under oath, I take no pleasure in it.” She said with a glance at Frank before she looked down, almost convincingly.

Frank just about managed to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“So, your son is a failure in life, your daughter took her life, you know, you're oh for two.”

Fliss winced and glanced at Roberta as Highsmith said “Objection” in an almost bored voice

“Withdrawn.” Cullen’s voice took on an amused edge but as Fliss watched as Evelyn simply eyed him, completely un-phased.

“If I go one for three, I'm in the Hall of Fame.” she shot back.

“You know baseball.” Cullen pushed his chair back. “Fenway Park.”

At that something flickered in Evelyn’s eye as she glanced at Frank. Fliss followed her gaze and watched, just able to see the side of Frank’s face. His eyes were locked onto her, his expression never faltering.

“You know, I'd like to go there sometime.” Cullen stood up, pushing his glasses up onto his head as Evelyn turned back to him “How often in a year did you take Diane to the baseball game?”

“Diane wasn't interested in sports.” Evelyn replied

“She never wanted to go to a game? Ever?”

“I don't recall her ever asking.”

Cullen moved forwards a step and Fliss saw Frank’s eyes flick to him as he continued to question his mother.

“Just out of curiosity, Fenway, that's a tough ticket. Where do you get yours?”

“My husband has season tickets.”

“And how long has he had them?” Cullen enquired

“Thirty years. But I've only been married to him for twenty.” Evelyn informed him.

“And Diane never went to one game?”

Evelyn didn’t reply, simply raised her eyebrows slightly as if she was failing to see the point. Fliss’ eyes once again flicked to Frank who still hadn’t moved an inch.

“What colour was the dress Diane wore to prom?” Cullen changed his line of questions.

“Diane didn't attend the prom, because she didn't attend the high school.” Evelyn replied calmly

“No prom.” Cullen mused before he asked suddenly.“What sports did she play?”

“As I told you earlier, she wasn't interested in sports.”

“She’s calm.” Roberta whispered to Fliss as Cullen continued to question Evelyn about Diane’s lack of interaction with other children her age.

“Too calm.” Fliss nodded. “But I can see what he’s doing, trying to paint a picture of how she isolated Diane to imply that she’d do the same to Mary. You’re right, he’s good.”

As they tuned back into the examination again, Cullen took a deep breath and glanced to his left

“Mrs. Adler,” he looked back at her, “who's Paul Riva?”

At that Evelyn glanced at Frank, her calm mask slipping ever so slightly but still Frank didn’t move. Fliss could see his expression now carried a faint, and every so sad, smile.

Evelyn gave a silent huff before she looked back at Cullen “He was a boy from the neighbourhood.”

Her tone was clipped and Fliss noticed the judge sit forward slightly at her shift in attitude, narrowing his eyes a little as he watched her curiously.

“Oh, come on. He was much more than just a boy from the neighbourhood.  Paul was Diane's first love. Wasn't he?” Cullen asked.

Fliss and Roberta exchanged a glance.

“I wouldn't characterize it that way, no.” Evelyn shook her head.

“And how would Diane characterize it?”

“Diane was seventeen years old at the time. She didn't know anything about love.”

At that Fliss caught the first movement Frank had made since his mother had started talking. He took a deep breath and looked to his left before turning back, his shoulders moving slightly in frustration as he shook his head slightly, his eyes locking back onto his mother who was carefully avoiding his gaze.

“Mrs. Adler, in January 2000 didn't Diane and young Mr. Riva run away together?” Cullen looked at her.

“He coerced her.” Evelyn corrected with the air of someone picking her words carefully.

“And where did they go?”

“Vermont.”

“And you called the police, didn't you?” Cullen stated rather than asked.

“Yes.”

“Because he kidnapped her?”

“Yes”

“And where did the police find young Mr. Riva and Diane?” Cullen looked at Evelyn

“I told you, Vermont.” Evelyn looked at Cullen, her voice suddenly taking on an icy edge which made Fliss lean forward slightly.

“Stowe, Vermont. Wasn't it? A resort town.” Cullen looked round the court room as Evelyn shifted uncomfortably. “Stowe Mountain. He took her skiing. You see, kidnappers don't usually take their victims skiing.” Cullen paused from his explanation. When he spoke again his voice was calm, and slow, stressing the point perfectly “But this is what Paul did because he and Diane were in love.”

“No.” Evelyn refuted firmly

“And when they returned, you pressed kidnapping charges.” Cullen’s voice rose in volume and speed as he spoke. “You filed a lawsuit against his parents, until Paul stopped calling Diane. Didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“And Diane never heard of or saw Paul Riva again. Did she?” Cullen’s tone was harsh, accusatory as he stared at Evelyn.

“Poor girl.” Roberta mumbled besides her and Fliss shook her head, in utter shock at how a mother could be so damned cruel and out of touch with her own daughter. It made her feel a pang of sympathy for Mary’s mother despite never having known her. Fliss couldn’t imagine what she would do without either of her parents being as supportive as they were.

Evelyn must have answered as by the time Fliss turned her attention fully to what she was saying, as Cullen had asked another question.

“And how did she take it?”

“She was upset for a while. She lost focus.”

“She lost focus.” Cullen turned back to the desk and picked up a small file. “Mrs. Adler,” he turned back, file in hand, “in March of 2001 didn't Diane Adler attempt to take her own life?”

“This episode was minor. It was nothing.” Evelyn replied, her tone harsh.

“Nothing?” Fliss drew in a breath, shaking her head. For a moment she almost lost herself in another memory, of one rainy afternoon in Boston in October 2015, but she took a deep breath and focussed on where she was, as Cullen flashed the file at Evelyn.

“I have the hospital report in my hand.” he informed her

“It was nothing.” Evelyn said again, and now Fliss could see she was rattled. “Diane was not like regular people. She was extraordinary. And extraordinary people come with singular issues and needs.”

Fliss watched as Evelyn leant forward, her face creased in anger as she hissed “You have no idea of the capability she possessed. One in a billion. And you would say fine, let's throw that away, so the boy who cuts our yard can make a sexual conquest? Well maybe before you make that decision, you stand in my shoes. I had responsibilities, which went beyond the mother-daughter relationship.”

She took a deep breath and spoke again, her voice louder this time “The greatest discoveries, which have proved life on this planet have come from minds rarer than radium. Without them, we'd still be crawling in mud. And for your information, counsellor, a year after this incident with this boy Diane thanked me for my intervention. She realized she'd made a mistake and she thanked me. You see, Diane understood. She was accountable for the gift she'd been given. And she didn't shy from it.”

Every inch of Evelyn’s face was contorted with a mixture of pain and anger, and she radiated absolute fury across the courtroom as her rant built to its climax

“And I think, if she were here today, Mr. Attorney, she would refute your baseless insinuations, that she would give up her brilliant future and take her own life just because mummy didn't get her a little red wagon

There was a pause as she took a breath and sat back.

“No more questions.” Cullen said simply, turning back to his seat.

Fliss watched Frank who shifted, rubbing his chin with his left hand, his fingers curling round his jaw in an L shape as he stared at this mother, his face completely unreadable to anyone who didn’t know him, but to her she could see the pain in his eyes.

And from the look Evelyn gave him, it was obvious she’d seen it too.

***** When Mary returned home on the school bus that afternoon, Frank did his best to remain positive and keep his broodings to himself, and was thankful when Fliss suggested they head out for dinner with Roberta. The four of them went to the same restaurant he had met his mother at not long before where he ate, not really tasting his food, or listening as Fliss and Roberta chatted away. Instead his attention was completely on Mary who was stood with one of the waitresses at another table, pouring sand out of one of the bottles that was used to keep the tablecloths from blowing away. The thought that she could be without such simple pleasure of looking through sand for shells, and lost to a world of pressure and solitude like Diane had been, was breaking his heart.

He felt someone squeeze his hand at the same time Mary held up a shell and showed it to him. He took a deep breath and tried to rearrange his face into a smile as he turned to face Fliss.

“It’s going to be okay, Frank.” She looked at him and he swallowed, unable to form his words. Instead his fingers tightened around hers and she simply held his hand whilst they finished up their drinks.

Later that evening, once Mary was asleep inside the apartment, Frank and Fliss sat outside the kitchen door, shoulder to shoulder along the top step.

“You know, until I met you I thought sitting on a porch drinking beer was something only red necked hillbillies did.” Fliss teased him.

“Well, according to my mother that’s what I am.” he scoffed.

“And according to me your mother is a callous, cold hearted bitch.” Fliss spat, with such venom it made Frank look at her, his eyebrow raising a little. She took a deep breath, her voice softening “How can anyone dismiss a suicide attempt as nothing.”

Frank looked away, taking a pull from his beer. They sat in silence for a moment before Fliss broke it.

“You know back in 2015, about five months after I’d gotten married, I almost did it you know? Killed myself.”

Frank’s head turned to face her. She wasn’t looking at him, instead she remained focussed on a spot in the distance as she stared straight ahead. “My life was out of my control, and it was the only way I could think of getting some of that control back. So I took a shit load of buproprion and washed it down with half a litre of vodka.”

“Shit, Lissy I’m sorry, I had-” She waved his sympathy off and continued “After that I was offered all this help and support and-” she snorted bitterly, “I still went back to him. He convinced everyone, including me that the issue was the fact that I was still brooding over my career being cut so short, and then told me that having a kid would fix the issue. In reality there was no issue to fix. I wasn’t depressed as such, I was abused. And that was simply another way of him taking control.”

After a moment she turned to look at him, “I’m not saying your mother abused Diane, not as such but she isolated her for her own, selfish reasons, no matter how she tries to dress them up or convince herself that it was for Diane’s own good. That first suicide attempt your sister would have made a normal, loving parent sit up and pay attention to what was going on. I know it did mine, as Bill never trusted John’s explanation, not one word.” “I should have done more too.” Frank’s voice was choked as he looked down at his feet. “But I was so busy, wrapped up in my finals and…”

“Frank, Diane wasn’t your responsibility, you’re not her parent.”

“No but when Dad died, I promised I’d take care of her, always be there for her. I should have done more, and I should have known, when she turned up that day at mine with Mary…”

“Frankie.” Fliss cut him off, her hand taking his. “Take it from me, my mum and dad and brother went through all of this in their head. Did Diane give you any warnings at all because I know I didn’t?  Look at the lies and the world of fantasy I let John build up round me and detract from what was going on. I told nobody I was gonna do it Frank. And I told no body why I did it either.”

Frank sniffed and wiped at his nose slightly with his free hand.

“So you can either carry on beating yourself up over something that isn’t your fault or you can concentrate on getting the best outcome here for Mary.”

He reached for his beer which was on the step below him between his legs and nodded. She was right, he knew she was, but there would always be that part of him that wondered if he could have done more, it he should have done more.

“Are you planning on coming tomorrow?” he asked, looking at Fliss.

“Yeah, Joanne is covering again.”

“I don’t want to put you out.” he said gently, but she shook her head.

“It’s sorted.” Fliss smiled. “She wants the week of Thanksgiving off so she’s racking up the favours.”

“Well, from a purely selfish standpoint I’m glad.” He flexed his fingers against hers, looking down at where they were entwined.

“I’m not missing your testimony, if only for the sole reason of discovering what your full name is.” she teased as he looked at her. Frank gave a huff of a laugh “Francis Preston Adler, nice to meet you.” He tipped his bottle in her direction. “Preston?” She snorted “Get out of town! There’s a place in England called Preston, it’s like thirty miles away from my home!”

Frank smiled, before he sighed.

“Last day tomorrow isn’t it?” Fliss looked at him as he stared straight ahead.

He let out a breath “Yeah, well last day of evidence. Then we have to wait for however long it takes the judge to read all the reports and make a ruling.”

“Well then, I suggest you get some sleep, or as much as you can.” Fliss kissed his cheek, and with that she released his hand and stood up. Frank followed her lead, rising to her feet. “Oh, and FYI I got an absolute interrogation off Roberta before when you did that to me. Felt like it was me in the dock, not Evelyn.” For the first time all evening Frank laughed.

******

The gloomy, rainy morning matched Frank’s mood perfectly.

He sat in the dock dressed in his suit, feeling as out of place as anyone could. Greg went through the questions he had coached Frank on, questions designed not to paint him as a saint but to simply be real and portray him as a normal person, doing the best he could for his niece in line with his sister’s wishes. Frank answered them honestly. Was he perfect? No. Had he done things correctly? No. Did he wish he had spotted Diane was struggling? Yes. Did he love Mary and want the best for her? With every breath he had.

The questions continued along those lines until they broke for lunch. And then came the cross examination, and Frank knew he was in for a beating.

“Mr. Adler where are you currently employed?” Highsmith asked sitting on the desk to the left of Evelyn.

“I repair boats.” Frank answered clearly

“Oh, really? At which marina?”

“I don't work at a marina. I freelance.”

“So, safe to say, no health insurance.”

“No.” Frank shook his head

“About a week before your sister took her life what were you doing for a living then?”

“I was a teacher.” Frank replied.

“You're being modest, aren't you?” Highsmith said, standing up and walking towards the dock “You were a professor at Boston University Isn't that right?

“Yes, well, assistant professor.”

“And what'd you teach?”

“Philosophy.”

“Truth and logic. That sort of thing.” Highsmith gestured with his hands and Frank simply smiled as the man continued. “Your attorney said that the primary reason that you took Mary is because it was what your sister would've wanted you to do. Is that a truth?”

“Yes.” Frank implored

“So Diane had visited Pinellas County before?”

“No.” Frank said with almost an air of amusement on his face as he looked at his mother for a second before he glanced down and joined his hands in front of him in his lap.

“She indicated she wanted her daughter uprooted and moved here?”

Frank shook his head, closing his eyes. “No”

“No.” Highsmith repeated “So you decided to bring Mary here, didn't you?”

Frank licked his lips and drew in a deep breath as he simply stared as his mother. He was pleased so see her shift in her seat

“Did Diane had a problem with your health plan at Boston University?” Highsmith pressed.

Frank wanted to laugh. The guy was doing exactly what Greg had warned him he would do, attack his lack of healthcare, insinuate he wasn’t able or fit to provide for Mary. When he spoke his voice was calm, and he fought to keep his face as amicable as possible.

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Do you think she would want her daughter to have access to healthcare?”

Dumbass question

“Of course.” Frank nodded.

“So what do you do, when little Mary gets sick? You repair a doctor's boat?”

Frank scoffed a laugh as Cullen objected.

“Sustained.” Judge Nicholls shot Highsmith a look and Frank stole a glance at Fliss. If the situation wasn’t so serious he would have laughed at the identical look she wore to Roberta, both glaring at Highsmith like they were plotting his very painful death.

The rain outside continued to drive down as did Highsmith’s questions, the air punctuated every so often by a low rumble of thunder from the outside storm echoing what Frank was feeling inside.

“Prior to Mrs. Adler giving her one. Did Mary have a computer?”

“She used mine.”

“Mr. Adler, does Diane's daughter have her own bedroom?”

“No.”

“Does she sleep in a bed that you bought in a second hand shop?”

“Yes.” Frank looked ahead, focussing on keeping calm as Highsmith walked towards the dock, gesturing now with his hands, his tone winding up

“So, the truth is, Mr. Adler, that you didn't come down here because your sister wanted it to and you certainly didn't come here because it was good for Mary.”

Frank swallowed slightly and shifted a little, avoiding looking at the man as he tapped his hand on the side of the dock.

“No, it was personal. Diane was a star. You weren't. Diane got the attention. You didn't.”

Frank scoffed silently, oh please, and turned to look in the opposite direction.

“..and over the years You got angry. And here comes Mary. What a great way to get even.”

At that he audibly sighed. He had known this was coming, that his mother’s attorney would try and paint him as petty and vindictive but it still hurt to hear it. Hurt that his own mother would have someone attack him in such a way. He’d defend Mary to the hilt if someone was doing this to her…

“You've uprooted that little girl and brought her here for one reason only. To do harm to your mother. You blamed her for your sister.”

“No, I don't.” Frank broke his silence.

“And Mary to you is just a pawn in all this.”

And that did it, Mary wasn’t a pawn. She was a little girl, a little girl who he was doing is best by.

“Diane wanted Mary, to be a kid” Frank’s voice betrayed his desperation and emotion, and he knew that, but now he was past caring, this was the truth, it was how he felt, and he was nothing if not honest. He locked eyes with his mother as he spoke, driving his words home “.She wanted her to have a life. She wanted her to have friends and to play…”

At that his mother looked away, her eyes glistening but Frank kept his on hers as she turned back to him, his final words were almost whispered

“…and to be happy.”

“You realize the consequences of boredom for a gifted child, Mr. Adler? They become resentful and sullen.”

“Mary's not an angry kid.” Frank’s voice was calm once more.

“Really? Did she not attack a child on the school bus?”

Shit.

“A twelve year old tripped a seven year old and she came to his defense.” Frank shrugged slightly

“Did she break the boy's nose?”

“Yes.”

“On October 16th last year, were you arrested for assault?”

“Oh, my God.” Frank groaned, and he looked down before he glanced back up, momentarily locking eyes with Fliss who he noticed had taken a deep breath. He looked back down, shaking his head

“You have to answer the question Mr. Adler.” Judge Nicholls reminded him

Frank swallowed and focussed on a spot on the varnished surface of the wood in front of him, just by the microphone. “A drunk idiot attacked me and I defended myself. What does that have to do…”

“Did you spend the night in jail?” Highsmith cut him off.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded.

“You are in way over your head here. You're depriving that girl…”

Frank stayed still, shaking his head and glaring at his mother, all the while Highsmith continued ranting on at him

“…you're gambling with her future and now you’re being presented with an opportunity to do right by her.”

“Does council have a question for my client?” Cullen asked loudly

“Take the high road, Mr. Adler before she's rapidly damaged.”

“Does council have a question for my client or not?” Cullen repeated, this time standing up.

“Yes, sir. I do have a question.” Highsmith said. “Tell us. Is your continued guardianship really in the best interest of this little girl?”

“You do your best, Frank. And that’s all any of us can do…” Fliss’s voice rattled in his head, and he took a deep breath. No he wasn’t perfect. Yes, Evelyn could provide for her better than he could but could she love Mary like he did. No, no she couldn’t

He stared at his mother, as he lifted his chin and spoke loudly and clearly.

“Yes.Yes, it is.”

“I have no further questions.” Highsmith spoke.

Frank scratched at his head and left the dock.

***** Following the summing up, they were all dismissed. Frank shook Greg’s hand who told him he would be in touch and Frank left the courtroom with Roberta, Fliss nowhere to be seen. He took a deep breath, realising she was probably going to run a mile after hearing about the assault. That wasn’t how he wanted her to find out. However, to his amazement and joy she was waiting for him by his truck. Roberta nodded to him and made an excuse to nip over the road to the store for a water leaving them to talk alone.

“Thought you’d gone?” he said gently.

“No, I had to take a call from Joanne about a lesson. Why would I leave without saying goodbye?” she frowned

“The assault”

Fliss sighed “Okay, I admit it was a shock to hear but…”

“At least let me explain.”

“There’s really no need. You said you were defending yourself and I believe you.”

“He was a drunk idiot.” Frank continued anyway. “I was actually out with a friend, Jacob and his fiancée, Lisa. Jake had gone to the bathroom and this guy bumped into us and sent Lisa flying into the table, knocking a load of glasses over. When I told him to be careful he took a swing at me only he missed and, well I didn’t.”

“You’re a regular knight in shining armour, Sailor.” Fliss smiled before she looked at him softly. “I know that was hard today. I was so angry and the things he was saying to you but it’s done now. Try not to think on it because you can’t change the outcome. Whatever it is, you did your best.”

“You know I remembered you saying that to me.” he smiled, “Right as he was telling me what a lousy life I give Mary.” “It’s not lousy.”  Fliss shook her head. “She’s loved Frank. And she’s happy.”

He smiled again as she took a deep breath.

“Look, I have to go, I have a lesson in an hour now this rain has let up, but what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Working.” he said, chuckling as she raised her eyebrow. “Yeah I know, second Friday night in a row but, well I’m behind thanks to this case and whilst Roberta has Mary I can get a good few hours in during the night and then get my head down for a few hours before she comes back.”

“How about I keep you company?” Fliss offered. “Only if that’s ok?”

Frank smiled “As long as you don’t distract me too much.” “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

**** The next evening, Frank and Fliss were in the workshop at the Marina, Frank explaining to Fliss the different components of the oil filter he was stripping down. She gave a loud, exaggerated yawn and he nudged her playfully. She grinned at him, and he didn’t miss the flash in her eyes as she looked him quickly up and down, taking in his dirty jeans, hands covered in oil and his long sleeved thin blue sweater which he knew fit him pretty well. Part of the reason he had worn it.

“Hey.” a familiar voice said, and they both looked up to see Cullen as he stood in the entrance.

“Hey.” Frank frowned “What’s…” “I got some news, and I wanted to give it to you in person.”

“I’ll er, give you a moment.” Fliss offered, and she went to leave but Frank caught her elbow gently.

“No, stay, please.”

She looked at him for a second and nodded as Frank turned his attention to Cullen.

“What is it Greg.”

“Highsmith called. They want to cut a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

Cullen took a breath. “A foster family.”

“No way.” Frank dismissed the notion straight up and Greg continued to try and win him round, informing him that they could cherry pick and that it would be mutually approved and he’d already found a family in Tampa, which was what he had been working on all day.

“She’ll attend the Oaks, you and Evelyn will get visitation right, and then, when she’s twelve, you can go back into court and Mary can decide where, and with who, she wants to live.”

“You’re supposed to be on my team.” Frank cut his friend off, glaring at him “Why are you bringing me this deal?

“Other than I'm required to by law?” Greg looked back at him, and then suddenly Frank understood.

“You like this deal.” he stated and Greg nodded.

“I love this deal.”

“They think they're gonna lose.” Frank leaned on the work-desk in front of him, looking at Cullen.

“Yeah. They do.”

“You think we're gonna lose.”

“Yes.” Greg replied honestly. “I do, Frank.”

Frank looked down, swallowing before he turned to his friend who sighed.

“I gotta go put my kids to bed. I'll do whatever you want me to do. But, if we leave this up to the judge, Nicholls, he's old school, Frank. Does he like your mother? No. Does he like her income? Does he like her health plan? Does he like her home? You better believe it.”

Frank looked down again, shaking his head, unable to do anything else.

“I've been in his courtroom. A hundred times. And if it's a coin toss...Look at me.”

Frank turned to Greg, his arms still leaning on the top, muscles straining as he grasped at a wrench in front of him in frustration.

“If it's a coin toss, that old boy is going to side with the money.” Greg said gently “So, do me a favour, Frank. Just meet the family. See how it feels. It's all I ask.” With that he took a deep breath. “I gotta go, I’ll see you later. Goodnight Fliss.”

“Night.” she replied, watching him leave.

There was a pause before Frank picked up the wrench in his hand and threw it hard against the wall at the opposite side of the garage, before he stood up tall and turned to Fliss who was watching him, her face contorted in sympathy and sadness.

“I don’t know what to do.” He looked at her, and every single emotion he had been holding back cascaded over him in a wave as he felt utterly and hopelessly overwhelmed. He couldn’t stop the tears brimming in his eyes and he bowed his head, once more leaning on the desk. He felt a warm pair of hands gently on his arm, nudging him to turn slightly and he did so to look at Fliss as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a hug. He pressed his face into the crook of her shoulder, his tears falling onto her soft skin as she smoothed a hand through his hair, gently soothing him.

“Sorry.” he mumbled after a moment pulling back.

She placed her hands on his face, wiping his tears with her thumbs, her own filling her eyes. “Don’t ever apologise to me for being upset, Frankie.”

He let out a soft, watery laugh as he dropped his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath, composing himself.

“You now no one’s called me Frankie since I was a little kid” he smiled.

“Well it suits you.” she pulled away slightly. “You good?” He nodded, moving back out of her arms. “Do you think I should go?” he asked “Meet this family?”

“Frank, I can’t answer that.” “What would you do?”

“I honestly don’t know.” she shook her head. “I suppose there’s no harm in meeting them. But you have to be sure this is what is right for Mary. I do know one thing though, whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there all the way. I told you, I was here for the road trip, no matter how bumpy it gets.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. He gently took her hand and raised it to his mouth, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “Thankyou.”

**** Chapter 9

[askaceattorney]

Dear Anonymous,

Fine, whatever.

I honestly wasn’t sure what to make of this little punk the first time I saw him.  He looked like your average aloof, unhappy young schoolboy with a general look of “whatever” on his face...and GLOWING HORNS!?

...which he uses to communicate with a Godzilla knockoff!?

The movie critic in me want to say something here, but...I’m kind of at a loss for words.  Guess I’ll let the CinemaSins folks deal with that one.

Even odder is the fact that this crazy plot is introduced just after one Miles Edgeworth makes the decision to relinquish his badge in order to save a close friend.  Not to mention he got a surprise call from an old acquaintance.

Apparently, the writers didn’t think that was suspenseful enough, so they decided to have a giant monster attack the town.  Why in the--?

...Yeah, I know it's just a movie.  That would’ve been one hilarious plot twist, though, come to think of it.

The supposed evidence of this attack is what brings former Prosecutor Edgeworth and his friends to the studio where the one and only John Marsh does his thing.  What is his thing, exactly?  According to Judge Courtney...

Sadly, like many famous movie stars, he’s not all that exciting (or pleasant) in person, as we discover when Edgeworth and company first meet him.

We learn two things about him right off the bat -- he’s a bratty kid with few manners, and...he drinks a lot of milk, apparently.

One has to wonder if he actually likes it that much, or if he hopes to get bigger and taller by drinking it.  He’s apparently quite sensitive about his small stature, after all.

Despite being so small, however, he’s remarkably gutsy around adults.

Perhaps that’s something he gets from his father?

Aside from his guts and his fame, he doesn’t seem all that interesting, and doesn’t seem to have much to do with the murder of Zheng Fa’s President.  But, if the Ace Attorney series has taught us anything, it’s that looks can be deceiving.  The first thing we learn about him is both unexpected and...kind of hilarious.

The idea of a bratty kid like John being the son of the prim and proper Justine Courtney is just crazy enough to make you wonder if one of the writers thought, “Yeah...  That’ll be the last thing they expect!”  (And boy, were they right.)

It gets even better when we actually see them together, though.

It turns out the young rebel does have some respect for at least one authority figure -- his foster mother.  Of course, when your mom has a gavel, a majestic-looking robe, and (presumably) a British accent, you’d have to be pretty foolish to disrespect her.  And as every child knows, when your mom says your full name, that’s code for “You’re in big trouble.”  Luckily, he’s smart enough to understand that much.

I believe I speak for a lot of people when I say I love how refreshing this moment is after all his smugness.

So, to sum up his personality, John Marsh is a talented kid, but not too pleasant to be around...unless his mom’s there.  So, what about his involvement in the story?

He doesn’t seem to play much of a part in it until Shi-Long Lang makes an intriguing discovery.

The President of Zheng Fa apparently died on the same night John was rehearsing his lines for the Moozilla movie...and in roughly the same place.  Coincidence?  As already mentioned, John isn’t the nicest guy, but could he really have it in him to murder a foreign dignitary?  That sounds pretty far-fetched, even for Ace Attorney.

After some of Edgeworth’s deducing, we eventually learn the truth of the matter, which, while tragic, isn’t quite as horrible as that.

John’s reluctance to tell the truth about what happened is actually quite understandable -- according to him, the President’s death was the result of his own negligence.

One can only imagine what it must be like to be responsible for a foreign President’s death simply by forgetting to turn something off.  Accidents happen, of course, but it would still be enough to make anyone panic, especially someone so young.  On top of that, he has no explanation for why the President was there in the first place, which makes things even more suspicious.

Luckily for him, he has a perceptive prosecutor there to uncover the whole truth.

A bouquet of Lion Lilies had been given to the President before his death, leaving some pollen on his suit when he was supposedly crushed by Moozilla’s head, but John felt the need to remove the crushed flowers from the scene for some reason.  It’s here that we finally get a glimpse of his caring side.

Even if he won’t admit it, John cared enough about his mom to want to remove the evidence that would point to her being the President’s killer, event it meant casting suspicion on himself.  Could he have simply done that out of panic, was it done as an act of love, or was it a mixture of both?  We can only speculate on that, but I like to imagine his love for his mom was the bigger motivation for him.

If you say so, John.

Luck is on his side again when Edgeworth’s investigation leads him to a different culprit.

Thus the attention and suspicion are finally taken away from John, and he goes back to being (ironically) a background character.  But then, with help from Franziska, Sebastian, Kay, and Little Thief, an even more earth-shattering truth is unearthed:

I don’t see the resemblance, but I’m not one to doubt Judge Courtney’s word.  Through some crazy twist of fate, John’s biological mother, Amy, became a diplomat in Zheng Fa, met President Huang, and...well, you know the rest.  Despite whatever feelings John has upon hearing this news, he shows some courage at this point in the story and decides to hear the whole truth.

Then, when proof positive arrives that he was, in fact, the President’s son, the knowledge of this combined with the President’s death -- which, for all he knew, was caused by John’s negligence -- and the fact that he didn’t even bother to tell him who he was, is finally too big a burden for him to handle.

Thank goodness there are mothers out there who know when and how to provide comfort.

But then, after some more deducing from Edgeworth, the past comes back to haunt everyone...including John.

It turns out the one responsible for killing the President -- the real President -- has been lurking in the shadows all along.  Not surprisingly, John’s reaction to finding him isn’t very different from the way Kay reacted after finding her father’s killer.

Now we’re faced with the same question from before -- does John have it in him to kill someone?

That thought is put on hold until Edgeworth unmasks the mastermind behind the fake President’s murder.  Interestingly enough, both he and John grew up without knowing who their fathers were.

Unlike Simon, however, John isn’t satisfied to forget or ignore or what happened to his father.  And then, the moment of truth occurs...

John is suddenly given the opportunity to not only see his father’s killer face-to-face, but to avenge his death right then and there.

Such a temptation would be hard to resist for any grown adult, let alone a child.  Not to mention there’s a clown there who describes revenge to him in a positive light.

But whether it’s because of his mother’s wisdom, his father’s noble heart, or just some calm, rational thinking on his part (or perhaps a combination of the three), John displays enough character to look at the situation differently.

Sure, John may be a jerk and a brat at times, but when it comes right down to it, he has the one thing no average criminal has or understands: the incredible ability to consider how his actions might affect others.  Rather than thinking about what he might get from carrying out revenge, he instead considers how his mom, his friends, and his numerous fans might feel if he resorted to murder.

On top of this, he displays something else that sets him apart from a criminal -- the ability to resist taking justice into his own hands.

I don’t know about you, but my reaction to hearing this little punk say that was a lot like Kay’s:

Once again, thank heaven for mothers like Justine Courtney.  She obviously taught him what it means to live justly, even in the face of overwhelming emotion.

So, for such a minor-seeming character, John ends up showing some of the greatest character development in the game, as well as the same courage and strength as his late father.  Speaking of which, he even decides to do something in memory of his father, whom he never had the chance to meet.

It’s always wonderful to see someone who rarely shows emotion doing something out of love, isn’t it?  It just goes to show that you can’t judge someone -- whether they’re a little punk or not -- by appearances.

-The Co-Mod

P. S. I’ve got a few more essays to complete before I can get to Shi-Long Lang, but he’s on my list, so hang tight!  In the meantime, Mod Edgeworth has some things to say about...

KAY FARADAY

In every Ace Attorney game, every Protagonist always has to have an assistant or a Maya. Even while the later games did change the focus to be on a trio, each case always narrows down to two specific individuals working together on a single case together. One leads the trial, who is the character you played as, and the other one is your assistant. The only acceptation to this, of course, was the last part of Turnabout for Tomorrow where Phoenix led the case, Apollo was the assistant and Athena was the Defendant/Assistant number 2. Never mind that most real trials can have as many as five co-councils working on a single case from the Defense and Prosecution, but whatever. I suppose you can allow your suspension of disbelief.

In the case of Miles Edgeworth Investigations, the main protagonist, Miles Edgeworth, is often working with a single partner named Kay Faraday. From the beginning, the game makes hilarious excuses for why Miles Edgeworth needs to work with Kay and not Dick Gumshoe. Even Kay herself makes it blatantly clear that she is stealing Dick Gumshoe’s role as the assistant/sidekick before he gets dragged away from Miles Edgeworth by Shi Long Lang’s men.

To understand Kay Faraday’s role in Miles Edgeworth’s life, we first need to define what it takes to be considered an assistant to the main protagonist or Miles Edgeworth’s Maya so to speak. In the Ace Attorney trilogy, Maya represented the lancer and heart of Phoenix Wright’s life. 

(Both images from tvtropes.org)

She’s helped him in almost all of his cases with only four that she didn’t work with him on.  In many ways, Maya is Phoenix’s loyal partner and someone that brightens his life. Understand that a majority of Phoenix’s work includes paperwork, investigating and court trials. Not exactly something to be excited about. I’ve never been to a trial, but I have had visited a courthouse with my mom when she was sending in paperwork for her divorce. If you thought being in a waiting room for a doctor’s appointment or the likes was boring, going to a courtroom to see a judge is ten times more boring. Having the assistant for the main character is a great way of bringing life to the main protagonist when he needs it.

What makes Kay the most unique as Miles Edgeworth’s assistant is the fact she is more chaotic than the other assistants. Maya Fey was certainly trollish and Trucy can bring a bit of chaos, but neither ever ran off randomly, dawned themselves as criminals of justice or were as dedicated to bringing justice in the most unorthodox way. In many ways, much like Maya is for Phoenix and Trucy is for Apollo, Kay represents everything Miles Edgeworth needs in his life. Just like Maya is for Phoenix and Trucy is for Apollo, Kay parallels Miles Edgeworth’s past and what he needs to strive for.

The first time Miles Edgeworth met Kay Faraday, he was with his mentor and getting ready to take over in Byrne Faraday’s place as Prosecutor due to allegations against Byrne Faraday as the Yatagarasu, a noble thief who steals the truth, then releases it to the public. Kay Faraday politely asks a young Miles Edgeworth to exchange her coins for a dollar. Later on, when the trial is about to start, it turns out that both the Defendant and Byrne Faraday were murdered. Through investigation, both young Miles Edgeworth and a young Franziska Von Karma are able to conclude that this double murder was made by a third party.

At first, it’s suspected that Dick Gumshoe was the one responsible for the murder. With teamwork from young Miles Edgeworth and young Franziska Von Karma, they were able to prove that Dick Gumshoe had a mysterious alibi in the form of Kay Faraday. Realizing she had truly lost her father, this touches the young Miles Edgeworth in the most personal way. He too had lost his father at a very young age and blamed himself for it, even during this time. Unlike Miles Edgeworth, though, Kay had found someone that understood and sympathized with her pain and suffering. What many people seem to miss, however, is how even this young Kay might’ve blamed herself in the same way Miles Edgeworth blamed himself for his father’s death. 

Kay’s father was literally murdered in the next room literally next to her. She likely was with her father before, then took off to buy a little snack for her and her father. If you can also recall all the promises she made in her Promise Notebook, she had technically broke two of those rules. One was that she would not except gifts from strangers, yet she accepted a dollar from Miles Edgeworth and technically a snack from Dick Gumshoe. The second is that she would not go anywhere with strangers, yet sat and ate with Dick Gumshoe. Thanks to those two rules being broken, Kay never returned to her father or was there when her father was murdered. It’s possible that, in Kay’s mind, she truly believed her father would still be alive and Dick Gumshoe would not have been blamed or covered for her had she not left her father’s side or broken any of the rules.

Now, most people would likely say, “but Kay isn’t anything like Miles Edgeworth. She doesn’t self deprecate or blame herself for things she cannot control,” except that’s exactly what she did in The Forgotten Turnabout when she lost her memories. People with amnesia do not just change into self-shaming people. It’s like erasing your computer into its factory/default settings. The computer erases all information to its basic format and this is exactly what happened to Kay Faraday in The Forgotten Turnabout. Her default personality is someone that constantly blames herself for things she does not know or can control. This girl went so far as to believe she truly murdered someone, because she was there when it happened. Hm… remind you of another character, who also thought he murdered someone because he was there when it happened? I don’t know. Sounds a bit similar, if you ask me.

To continue on, young Kay is given young Miles Edgeworth’s cravat, who then promises to return it. From there, Miles Edgeworth exposes the real killer of Kay’s father, Calisto Yew, before she runs off. Kay returns many years later in order to help Miles Edgeworth and find justice for her father. This feels familiar in how Phoenix Wright also helped Maya Fey find justice for her sister’s killer or how Apollo Justice helped Trucy Wright find justice for her father’s killer. Kay considers Miles Edgeworth a hero for helping her expose her father’s killer, before eventually putting her to justice.

Kay returns in the second game where she attempts to look for a Yatagarasu Team of her own, while helping Miles Edgeworth with his investigations. Returning back to The Forgotten Turnabout, we learn a hidden side to Kay Faraday people tend to brush off as her being amnestic. The truth is, Kay’s amnesic personality shows a greater depth to her than people realize. It is when she loses her memories that we see that she is more fragile, self-deprecating and self-conscious about herself. These are the most noticeable traits to Miles Edgeworth that he often hides with his stoicism. This stoic personality to Miles Edgeworth is the upbeat, chaotic side to Kay. Just like how Miles Edgeworth often uses his stoic, smug personality to mask his fragile, self-deprecation and self-conscious part of himself, the same can also be how Kay uses her upbeat, chaotic personality to hide the very same parts of herself.

(Found image here)

Losing a parent was never something that came without traumatic consequences in Ace Attorney, especially to children. Athena losing her mother resulted in losing memory, having phobias towards courtrooms – something I suspect might be a form of Agoraphobia and having fractured relationships towards the Blackquill siblings. Athena also had believed she may’ve killed her own mother as a young child. Trucy Wright losing her parents caused her to believe that she wasn’t allowed to show any form of sadness or anger. Apollo having lost his father as an infant caused him to have abandonment and trust issues almost all of his life to the point of quickly turning against colleagues at the flip of a dime the moment he suspects either one have committed some sort of crime (Kristoph Gavin, Phoenix Wright for a short time and Athena Cykes). Why should Kay Faraday be left out of being traumatized by the murder of her own father, especially if she was a child and was literally next door when it happened? Why wouldn’t Kay Faraday blame herself for her father’s murder when we have two other characters placed under suspicion of murdering their parents? Even while one could argue Trucy never had issues as severe as Miles Edgeworth or Athena Cykes, it’s likely because she still had Phoenix as her adopted father to help her through her trauma. Even Apollo had a Foster Father during most of his childhood. Kay never had any adopted or foster father.

Many have questioned and speculated if Kay Faraday sees Miles Edgeworth as her father. I wouldn’t put that out of the realm of possibilities, but I’d like to say that is up for interpretation. What I can say about their relationship is that they have connected much quicker than most other characters. Even with Maya, Phoenix didn’t completely connect with her for about a year. Phoenix told Maya he trusted Larry and Edgeworth, two of his childhood friends, more than anyone else, even Maya (Ouch!). Apollo did connect with Trucy pretty quickly, but they weren’t really open with each other for a few years. It wasn’t until Spirit of Justice when Trucy truly opened up to Apollo. While Miles Edgeworth is most certainly not as open with Kay as he is with Phoenix Wright, it’s clear there was a great deal of chemistry and trust that developed in the span in less than two months.

(Image from here)

It’s this great deal of trust Kay has with Miles Edgeworth that she decides to make him and Dick Gumshoe her new Yatagarasu team. Many people often make this new Yatagarasu to include Ema Skye, Franziska Von Karma and/or Sebastian Debeste and, while I do respect that team, I find it to be better that it’s Dick Gumshoe and Miles Edgeworth. Most would consider this to be the same as the previous Yatagarasu, but I have to disagree with that. The only thing both teams would have in common is that they have a Prosecutor and Detective, perhaps a future Defense Attorney if Kay was to go that route. They still have different personalities from the original Yatagarasu, would perform their jobs differently and would go up against a different evil corruption in the higher ups. The first Yatagarasu would go up against the Smuggling Ring, whereas the second would likely go against the Dark Age of the Law and the corruption in the PIC and Bar Association. Why? Well….

With Kay Faraday, I have seen a previous essay on her, but I feel that there is so much more to her than what was put on before. She’s one of the only assistant characters that I feel parallels the protagonist the closest. I found this fanart. I will link to where I found this here, but this expresses their relationship as a whole.

Kay Faraday is one of the only characters in Miles Edgeworth’s life that can truly relate to him on a deeper level. She’s Miles Edgeworth’s support and someone that Miles Edgeworth would likely run across a burning bridge for. Technically, he did…

Sorta. It still counts!

That’s my take on Kay Faraday. She truly is my best girl. I may do other Character Essays in the future, but I thought I’d give this one a go. We have another request on Shi Long Lang, so do expect an essay of him to be made in the future.

-Mod Edgeworth

[hollyxqx]

chained  //  yoongi  //  01

↪ PAIRING: Min Yoongi x Reader ↪ SUMMARY: Min Yoongi, a demon, has been ordered to protect you as punishment for his crimes; no matter what...and he's not happy about it. ↪ WORD COUNT: 6.3k 

↪ WARNINGS: dubious consent | blood | violence | attempted sexual assault | filthy demon sex

ONE | TWO | THREE

Her? Seriously?

Those were the first thoughts that entered Yoongi's mind when his target was revealed to him. He was sat on a chair in the courtroom with a guard on either side of him, each one had a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. Not that he would have dared move, anyway. He had caused enough trouble, which had landed him in this precarious position in the first place. And now he was paying the price.

Being a demon there were rules and restrictions they had to follow; just like humans. Yoongi had broken not just one but many of them. He'd killed another demon. He'd killed an ancient demon, which was considered heinous. You were to respect your elders, not kill them. The ultimate sin. He was lucky he wasn't being obliterated.

Instead, his punishment was you.

Apparently you were important for a human. Just looking at you, Yoongi couldn't see why, you looked like every other human to him. But according to the Judge you were going to be the mother of a baby who allow demons to finally live freely on earth. Something his kind had strived for since being banished from the planet thousands of years ago. You were the one to change that. Allegedly.

He was ordered to protect you. At all costs. Your life was essentially in his hands. The last thing he wanted was this kind of responsibility, this burden. Especially considering if he failed and you died, he would too. A demon's death wasn't exactly painless either. It was far worse than any human could even imagine. It was the ultimate punishment.

"Do you have anything to say before you are banished to Earth?" The judge's voice reverberated throughout the room and straight through Yoongi. Even he found it frightening.

"No." Yoongi said, head hanging low. He had a smart mouth and did not trust himself to speak in that moment. Knowing him he would make it worse for himself.

"Then I hereby sentence you to protect the human Y/N. You may return when your task is complete."

With a pounding of the gavel, Yoongi's world went black as he was teleported to Earth to begin his prison sentence.

***

Earth always smelled strange to Yoongi. He had been here three times before, on hitman business of course, and it always smelled the same. Like humans, he thought to himself. Humans had a very distinct odour, it was their blood. They smelled metallic. Sometimes Yoongi could even smell their emotions, human pheromones were highly detectable by demons. Especially when they were scared or frightened, sometimes even when they were happy.

He had landed on the street that you lived on, but with nothing other than the clothes on his back. He looked down at his wrists. Tattoos had appeared around them, black intricate lace bands that looked pretty but were actually handcuffs, tying him to you. He peeked at his ankles, confirming his suspicion. Tattoos had appeared there too. Shackles to go with his handcuffs, he was a prisoner after all. He sighed. He needed to find some accommodation.

Instinctively he could sense you were near by. It must be part of the spell that was written within the tattoo. He assumed he would always be able to feel where you were and if you were in danger. He followed that feeling, walking to your apartment building. He would choose to stay here for convenience sake. If he had to save you at a moments notice at least he would be close by.

Yoongi walked in to the foyer. There was an office marked 'building manager' and he listened for a moment. His heightened sense of hearing allowing him to realise that no one was on the other side. He unlocked the door with force, breaking the handle as he did so and entered the room.

There was a filing cabinet to his right and he opened the top drawer and started rifling through. He was looking for a list of the building's tenants, for two reasons. One; he wanted to see if this definitely was your building and two; he wanted to see which would be the easiest apartment to take over. Ideally a single tenant. Dealing with a family would be...messy.

He hummed in satisfaction when he found exactly what it was looking for. His eyes quickly scanned the page and to his delight there Y/N L/N was. His instincts were right. Next he looked for his target. When he saw a single guys name in apartment 3B he knew that was where he would head next.

He put the file away and left the office, taking the stairs to the third floor. He reached 3B and knocked on the door. After a few seconds the door swung open and a middle aged man stood before him. "Hello," Yoongi said and used his powers to throw the man with extreme force backwards into his apartment. He hit the wall and instantly was unconscious. "Thanks for the apartment." Yoongi said, striding in and closing the door behind him.

Step one, completed.

***

You were struggling with your shopping bags as you awkwardly fumbled with the door to your building. It was your fault for going grocery shopping on an empty stomach. You practically bought everything in sight, your hunger getting the better of you. However, you managed to make it to the elevator and press the button for your floor. Just a few more minutes and you would be home and free of the heavy bags on your wrists.

You reached your apartment and as you struggled with the keypad one of your bags split open and the contents spilled all over the hallway. "Oh shit." You groaned at the mess. Carefully you placed the remaining bags on the floor and did your best to gather the spilled items. However one stray tin can had rolled away and you crept along after it.

"Does this belong to you?" An unknown hand had reached down and picked the can up, inspecting it with a smirk. His eyes went to you and he wiggled the can at you. You let out a slightly embarrassed laugh.

"Oh yes, guilty!" You smiled, standing up. "That's mine."

"Spaghetti hoops, huh?" He asked, grinning almost wickedly. Your face flushed with embarrassment and you cursed your impulse buying.

"I went shopping on an empty stomach, what can I say." He reached out and handed the can back to you. "Thanks."

"Do you need a hand with the rest?" He asked, gesturing to your shopping bags strewn on the floor.

"Oh no, it's ok, I got it. Thanks though." You replied with a wave of your hand.

"If you're sure..." He trailed off. "I'm new to the building. May I ask your name?"

"Welcome," You said brightly. "I'm Y/N. And you?"

His eyes flashed with something you didn't recognise and it made you uneasy.

"Yoongi."

***

Yoongi paced the length of his stolen apartment, mind ablaze. After meeting you in the flesh earlier that day he knew exactly why he had been assigned to you, of all humans. You weren't like the rest of them. He suddenly understood why you were so special. And it was all because he had an almost uncontrollable urge to eat you. He wanted to devour you slowly.

He'd never had that feeling for a human before, ever - and he had been around a lot of them. You didn't smell like any human he'd ever come across either. You smelled sweet. Like sugar. It was bizarre to him. He wasn't even aware that it was possible to feel this way about a human. To his knowledge it had never happened before. He couldn't even contact anyone in the demon world to ask for more information.

As he continued pacing he felt something strange in his chest. That's new, he thought. Was it you? He paused for a moment, closing his eyes trying to focus on the feeling. It was you. But it didn't feel good. Something was wrong.

Suddenly, he was overcome with the urge to find you as this new feeling in his chest worsened. He didn't know how he knew it but he was certain you were in danger. Immediately he left the apartment and just let his feet guide him, trusting his gut instinct. He made his way down the stairs and out the building. His chest was burning now, he knew you were close.

As he scanned the parking lot he spotted you. You were pressed up against the wall where the trash bins were, hidden away from the world and a man was holding you at gunpoint, trying to snatch your purse from you. Yoongi rushed over and using his demon strength he lifted the man by the scruff of his collar, easily pulling him off you. With his free hand he casually snatched the gun out of his hand, to prevent the man from doing any damage. Yoongi didn't miss the wide eyed look of shock on your face.

Yoon giacted on instinct, twisting the man's head, instantly snapping his spinal cord. He crumbled down to the ground in a heap, dead. You screamed.

"Are you ok?" Yoongi asked you. He could hear your heartbeat and the smell of your fear almost turned him on. It radiated from you, filling his nostrils and making his brain cloudy. You didn't reply. "Are you?" He urged.

"Y-y-you, you - he's d-dead." You stuttered, raising a shaky hand to point at the body. Yoongi hadn't even thought twice about killing the man. He was a demon. Killing humans was normal for him. They were weak and inferior, their lives didn't mean much to him.

"He was going to kill you." Yoongi stated the obvious.

"You can't just kill people!" You hissed. He shrugged.

"He was only human. Not much of a loss." He said simply. Your face twisted in confusion at his words. No one told him he couldn't tell you what he was. He wasn't breaking any rules....as far as he was aware. "How did this even happen?" He asked, gesturing to the body.

"He followed me home..." You whispered. Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment. You're trembling voice and frightened demeanour combined with the smell of you was threatening to overcome him. He needed to be in control and you were making it difficult. "Why did you do that?" You asked shakily.

His eyes slowly opened again. "To save you."

"How did you know where I was?" You looked at him with such large, innocent doe eyes it almost made him want to bite into your flesh there and then. If only you knew what a monster he was, you wouldn't be gazing at him like that.

"I felt it." He said, eyes hardening as he looked at you. You looked bewildered.

"You...felt it?" You queried. He nodded. "How?"

"I'm not what you think I am, Y/N." He said quietly. "Go inside. I'll get rid of him." You didn't move and it frustrated him. He strode over to you and in one swift move, picked you up and forcibly took you back in to the building. He ignored your cries to put you down until you were at the elevators. "Go home." He instructed, giving you one more stern look before walking away.

"Wait!" You shouted but he ignored you. He had a body to dispose of.

***

It had been hours since you made it home and your heart was still hammering in your chest. What you had just witnessed outside made you question everything about your strange new neighbour. He had said some incredibly odd things that you could not forget, no matter how hard you tried to push them out of your mind. Yet, without him there was a high chance you would have been six feet under now. The thought made you restless, doing nothing to calm your shaking hands.

You thought about trying to find Yoongi's apartment, in a wild attempt to pry any answers you could from the man. You realised, with a sigh, you had no idea which door belonged to him. You'd have to wait for another chance encounter, and even then, you weren't guaranteed anything.

You made yourself some tea and with trembling hands you wandered over to the window ledge. Looking at the night sky was always calming to you and you loved this little nook where you could sit in your apartment. All you wanted now was calmness, after the chaos of the earlier evening. However something caught your eye in the parking lot. It was Yoongi.

He was stalking across the concrete, almost prowling and you noticed something animalistic in the way that he moved. His shoulders were hunched slightly and his brow furrowed with what looked like fury. It sent a shiver through you. It was only when he crudely used the back of his forearm to wipe his mouth clean did you notice the blood on his face. It covered the whole lower half, spilling down on to his neck and shirt. Was he injured? What was going on?

It was as if he could feel your eyes on him. As if by magic he paused, looking up directly to your window. You gasped, spilling some tea on the ground as you leapt back, caught. How could he have possibly known you were standing there? It was late, and dark. Any normal person would be long asleep.

You waited a moment before cautiously leaning forward to peek out the window again, but he was gone.

***

Weeks turned in to months and although you didn't see Yoongi you never forgot about him. It was strange to you how he could just vanish like that and you even questioned that he might have moved out. You were just going to have to accept that this person did something heroic for you once upon a time and that was it. Part of you wanted to thank him but you'd never be able to.

You were sitting at the red light, fingers aimlessly drumming along to the car stereo as you hummed along with the song. You were in no real rush to get home so you didn't mind the wait. Suddenly, a banging on the window caused you to almost leap out your seat. You turned to the source of the noise, mouth falling agape when your eyes locked with Yoongi.

"Get out the car!" He practically screamed, banging furiously on the window. He tried to open the driver door but it was locked, the handle clicking adding to his frustration. You were utterly bewildered. "Y/N listen to me! You need to get out now."

You rolled the window down as you frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?" You asked, incredulously.

Yoongi said nothing, leaning inside the open window and unlocking the door. He then proceeded to swing the drivers door wide open and made quick work of your seatbelt. He ignored your cries of protest, choosing to essentially rip you out of the car. In a moment you were in his arms being dragged to the pavement. "What the hell are you doing?!" You yelled, hitting your fists against his chest, struggling in his grip.

He said nothing, however your question was answered for you when a car came careering into the side of yours, crushing the metal where you had been sitting only moments ago. The sound of metal hitting metal rang in your ears and you gasped loudly in shock. "Saving your ass, again. You're welcome." Yoongi said almost smugly. He let go of you and you almost crumpled into a heap, legs weak from fright.

"H-how? How did you know?" Your voice was hoarse. You looked up at him wide eyed in terror.

"I felt that you were in trouble." Was his vague reply, much the same as the last time you had questioned him.

"That would have killed me." You stated the obvious. "You saved my life. Again."

"You're a fucking headache, you know that?" Yoongi said suddenly angry, pointing a finger at you. "You're the most troublesome human I've ever come across."

There he went using the word 'human' again, almost as if it was an insult. As if he wasn't human himself. "I didn't ask you to do that!" You retorted, matching his anger. "That was your choice!"

"It's not my fucking choice." He uttered darkly. His eyes narrowed at you. "Stay out of trouble, Y/N." And with that he turned to leave. You were quick this time though, reaching out to grab his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. He turned slowly to look at you.

"What does that mean?" You asked. He shook his head, refusing to answer. "Will you at least let me thank you properly this time?"

"How are you going to do that?" He scoffed, shrugging your arm off him.

"I was hoping you could tell me." You offered, somewhat shyly. You couldn't let him get away this time and disappear for months again. "Let me just sort out my car and I'll buy you coffee or food or something. Please."

You didn't care how desperate you sounded, you just need to make sure he wouldn't leave. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, whatever."

***

Yoongi couldn't believe he was sitting opposite you in a fucking human coffee shop of all places. The only reason he'd even agreed to it, aside from the pitiful look on your face, was because he was getting bored living on earth. All he did was wait around for you to get in some petty human danger so he could step in and save the day. After months he'd had enough.

The two of you were sat in a quiet corner of the coffee shop as you sipped a latter. Yoongi had ordered as well but he didn't drink it, he just didn't want to pique your curiosity and invite awkward questions by not ordering anything. After all, you thought you were doing him a favour. He smirked to himself. Cute, he thought. Humans are dumb.

"Will you tell me how you knew where I was today?" You asked in a small voice, stirring your coffee absent mindedly. Yoongi audibly sighed.

"Call it intuition." He replied, watching you curiously. He'd never seen you in daylight before and he took the time to study your features. You were attractive, by human standards, that was for sure. His eyes roamed your face, down to your neck and he could see the veins there. It took everything in him not to lick his lips as he imagined his teeth sinking into your flesh.

"Intuition..." You repeated, your voice trailing off. "Is it the same intuition that brought you to me before? That night I was mugged?"

Yoongi nodded.

"You're like my guardian angel or something." You joked, letting out a little laugh.

"I'm no angel, Y/N." He said darkly. You watched him carefully. "Trust me."

"What are you?" You said quietly, eyes never leaving his.

"I'm a bad guy." He said, unable to resist enjoying how you visibly tensed at the words. He couldn't help it, he loved when you were scared. He licked his lips. "I'd be your worst nightmare if I was allowed."

"What does that mean?" You asked cautiously.

"I told you before; I'm not what you think I am." Yoongi replied, leaning his forearms on the table, edging closer to you. "Human." He whispered deviously. Your face contorted in confusion, mouth falling open in shock.

"Human?" You whispered. "What are you?"

"Let's just say...I'm a prisoner." He offered.

"I don't understand." You frowned.

"You're not supposed to." Yoongi couldn't help but crack a smile at your expression. Oddly, he enjoyed teasing you. "I guess you'll be needing a ride home?" He asked, switching the subject. Yoongi had recently been able to acquire a car, having learned to drive a long time ago.

"Oh...." Your voice faded away at the realisation. "Yeah. Yeah I will."

"Follow me." He instructed, slipping out of his chair and making his way to the door. You reluctantly trailed behind.

***

Months passed again and still no sign of Yoongi.

It wasn't like you missed him exactly. It was more a winding curiosity about him. After the day he joined you for coffee and dropped you home you felt like you had even more questions than before.

A thought occurred to you, maybe there was a way you could summon him. He appeared whenever you were in danger, so logically...if you were in danger again, that would cause him to show his face, right? Why didn't you realize this earlier? You could have seen him months ago. The only question now was, how exactly do you put yourself in harms way without dying or getting seriously injured.

Acting on impulse you grabbed your jacket and keys and made your way outside. You had an idea. A risky one, nonetheless, but an idea.

You made your way downtown, to an area you knew was dodgy, especially at this time of night. It was notorious for prostitution and gang violence, often appearing in the news when there were gun related deaths. A place you'd never go before, but now you had a guardian angel. You had a sense of confidence you didn't have before.

As you walked you heard catcalls and whistles from the men sat drinking on the side of the street. You ignored them as you strode by, unsure of what the next part of your plan should be. However you didn't have to think for too long because someone was approaching you.

"Hey baby, how much?" A man was leering over you, a sneer on his lips. He had a silver tooth and a menacing looking face tattoo, like a stereotypical bad guy.

"I-I-I'm not a - " You stammered, backing away from him. He noticed and grabbed your forearm, snatching you close to him.

"I know a whore when I see one." He breathed, his disgusting breath tickling your face. You screwed your face up at the sensation, trying to yank your arm back. His grip only tightened.

"You've got the wrong idea!" You shouted, struggling in his grasp. "I'm not."

"So does that mean you're free then?" He smirked. Before you knew it he was pulling you down an alley, his strength overwhelming you. You stumbled along behind him, fighting him the entire way. He seemed to enjoy your suffering.

He stopped under a light on the side of a building, harshly pushing you up against the brick wall, caging you in with the weight of his body. You heard him grunt as he gripped your hips tightly, pressing his hard length against you.

"Stop, please!" You whined, beating your fists against his chest. He had the audacity to laugh in your face.

He ripped open your blouse, buttons flying off and landed somewhere in the distance. The fear started bubbling in your chest and you began to scream. "Shut the fuck up." He hissed, a hand flying to your mouth, pressing his palm against your lips to muffle the sound. With his free hand he fumbled with his zipper on his jeans. You panicked and started to thrash against him but this only made him wedge his knee against you to hold you still.

Your jeans were next to go, shoved down to your knees along with your underwear. You started to panic, eyes wildly searching for any sign of Yoongi. Surely he would know you were in danger and come swooping in any moment now? The alley was deserted aside from you and the creep and some trash cans.

This was really happening. You were an idiot.

The man's hot breath was against your neck as he kneed your legs apart. You felt yourself start to sob, fighting to keep your legs closed. Before he could do the thinkable he was torn away from you, leaving you to collapse in a heap on the ground. Your theory had been right. Yoongi was here.

You watched as Yoongi threw the man on the ground as if he was a rag doll, giving him a harsh kick to the side as a good measure. The man groaned and rolled over but Yoongi wasn't done yet. He stood over him and picked him up by the throat, high enough that his feet dangled off of the ground. The man was choking and spluttering, grasping at the arm Yoongi was using to strangle him.

Yoongi's eyes were dark and thunderous, narrowed in to slits. His strength was terrifying. The man's eyes started to bulge as blood started to pour from his mouth. He was thrown to the ground and Yoongi was left standing there, pieces of the man's throat still clutched in his fist and you realised what had happened. He'd torn the man's throat out with his bare hand. Your mouth hung open in shock.

It was as if he finally remembered you were there, dark eyes turning towards you. He stalked over to you and for a moment you felt pure, unadulterated fear, wondering what was going to happen next. Instead, he offered a hand to you and you scrambled to your feet. His eyes shifted uncomfortably, desperately trying to avoid looking at your naked lower half and you hastily pulled your jeans and underwear back up. However, your top was still broken and you shivered exposed in the cold night air.

"Here." Yoongi was offering you his leather jacket and as he looked at your bare chest you blushed. You slipped it on, zipping it up. "What the fuck are you even doing here?!" He hissed. You finally met his eyes and you could see his jaw was clenched, a vein popping in his neck.

"I was walking." You said quietly.

"In this area? Are you fucking stupid?!"

"I-I didn't realise."

"You are a fucking nightmare." Yoongi gripped you by the elbow and began to drag you out of the alley. You followed almost dutifully behind, scared to speak incase he got angrier.

You didn't get any catcalls this time as you walked with his protective arm over you. He said nothing as you walked and you knew by the route he was taking that you were headed back home.

"I'm sorry!" You eventually squeaked. He gave you a dark look.

"Do you do this crazy shit on purpose?" He muttered. You remained silent.

It wasn't long before he was leading your shaking body into your apartment, closing the door behind you. You realised this was the first time he'd ever been inside your home. You stood awkwardly a few feet apart from each other. His head was low, avoiding looking at you. "Thanks for saving me. Again."

"It's not my choice." He uttered lowly. He looked tense, almost as if he was in pain.

"Still. I appreciate it."

"I've never seen a human who gets themselves into so many dangerous situations. Have you ever thought you might be cursed?" He sneered, running a distressed hand through his hair. He began pacing your living room, almost as if he was frantic.

"Um...are you ok?" You asked tentatively.

He didn't stop pacing. "It's you." He said gesturing to you, still not meeting your eyes. "I can't deal with this."

"No one's forcing you to help me!" You replied. He let out a mocking laugh.

"That's exactly it y/n. Someone is forcing me to help you. I don't have a choice." He stopped pacing to look at you. "You are my punishment, because being around you was the worst thing the council could think of."

"What?" You stammered, bewildered.

"See these?" He rolled up his sleeves, showing you his wrists where there were intricate black, almost lacy tattoos. "And this?" He yanked down the collar of his t-shirt and you saw a similar pattern around his neck. "These are spells. They are shackles, tying me to you. I couldn't escape you even if I tried."

"Spells? What are you talking about? This is a weird joke, Yoongi."

"Do you know what I am, y/n?" He said huskily, licking his lips. You were frightened again. He took a step towards you and you took one back. "I'm a demon."

"No you're not." You utter weakly, not entirely convinced of the words yourself.

"But I am." He took another step forward. "How do you explain half of the stuff you've seen me do then? Hmm?"

"I-I don't know."

He stood an arms length away from you now. "It's torture for me being around you."

"Why?" You whispered, feeling a little guilty and a little let down.

"Because the smell of your blood drives me fucking crazy."

He was mere inches from your face now and you noticed his eyes were a different colour than they were before. Instead of the black orbs you had become familiar with his eyes were a fiery hazel shade, blazing with something you didn't quite recognise. Whatever it was, it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"So you are a vampire now?" You shot back, feigning all the confidence you didn't have in that moment. He chuckled lowly, shaking his head.

"I told you what I am. Demon's have bloodlust too." He gripped the jacket you were wearing - his jacket - and pulled you towards him. "Your scent is going to be all over this now." He murmured.

"Is that a bad thing?" Your voice came out whisper like. It was overwhelming to be this close to him. A demon. Someone you've watched kill twice now. Someone who could kill you in a heartbeat.

"No. It's not."

His head dipped low into the crook of your neck, nose running over the skin. You should have pushed him away but something in you was almost enjoying it. After a few moments his lips brushed your neck and instantly you felt your skin heat up at his touch. He planted a soft kiss  before you felt his tongue lap at your flesh. It was dizzyingly pleasurable. He must have been enjoying it as well because he groaned.

His teeth began to scrape at your skin and you panicked. He was going to bite you. "Yoongi," You said fearfully, trying to push him away. "Stop."

It was almost as if you had burned him because he leapt away from you. His eyes were spaced, almost as if he was drunk, lips plump and swollen. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. I got carried away."

"Is it because of my...my blood?" You asked curiously. He nodded.

"I should go. Are you going to be able to stay out of trouble or do I need to stay and babysit you human?" He asked.

"Stay." The words left your lips before you could think about it. He quirked an eyebrow at you, as if questioning your sincerity. "I feel...safe when you're around."

"You shouldn't."

***

Yoongi lay on your sofa for that night, staring at the ceiling, still trying to process the fact that he was there. He'd agreed to stay for one night, neglecting to tell you the fact that being around you almost made him feel drunk on your scent. It only got worse the longer her spent around you. It was bordering on torturous now.

The sound of your footsteps interrupted his internal turmoil. You padded barefoot on the carpet to the kitchen, passing him as you went. He decided to get up and follow you. He nearly groaned out loud when he saw you were in nothing but an oversized tshirt. "Y/N." He spoke lowly. You gasped and dropped the glass you had been drinking water from. It smashed on the floor.

"Yoongi! You startled me."

He crossed the room using his entire body to push you up against the counter. You stumbled backward and he caged you in with his arms against the granite. "You can't wear stuff life this around me." He growled. His eyes swept your flimsy t-shirt. It was clear you didn't have a bra on. Yoongi wondered if you even had panties on.

"It's just a t-shirt." You said almost breathlessly.

"You don't understand how being around you affects me." He clutched at material of your shirt, balling it in his fist. He could barely contain himself when he heard your breath hitch.

"Yoongi." You whispered. His head dipped down to your neck, nose running over the flesh. You smelled even better than earlier. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer you, instead choosing to lick a long, hot stripe up your neck and to your jaw, giving him a small taste of you. He felt your skin ripple with goosebumps. You were frozen as he kissed your jaw, then your cheeks and then finally capturing your lips with his. To his surprise you let him, kissing him back, even moaning when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

Yoongi's brain was foggy as his tongue slid against yours, wet and dirty.  He pressed himself into you harder, a hand running up your shirt to grip your bare hip, keeping you in place against him. You gasped and pulled away when you felt his erection. It only made him move back to your neck where he started to suck on your skin. It was the only thing holding him back from biting you.

"I want you so bad, it's hurting me y/n." He said, slipping his other hand up your shirt and grinding his hips against you. "You feel that? You feel how hard I am. That's you."

"Can you even have sex?" You blurted, breath short from want.

He smirked. "Yep. And so much more."

He moved, lifting you up and placing you on the counter as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Lips returned to yours as his hands wandered over your breasts, twisting and rolling your nipples in his hands. As if on autopilot he lifted your shirt up and off your body so he could look at you, tossing it to the floor with little regard.

"Are you going to fuck me?" You asked, looking at him coyly.

"I'm going to ruin you." He replied devilishly.

Hands fisted your underwear, tearing them clean off your body as if to drive his point home. The elastic snapped against your skin. Yoongi stroked the outside of your bare pussy, keening when you shivered.

"Please touch me."

His finger slipped into your folds and he moaned out loud feeling how wet you were already. You wanted him too and it made his ego swell. "You've wanted this for a while haven't you? Wanted me to touch you like this?"

"N-no." You stammered.

"Lying is what bad girls do." He stopped stroking you and you whined. "I won't touch you again until you tell the truth."

"Yoongi, please."

His lips returned to your neck as his fingers danced over your thighs, teasing you. "That's why you were naughty tonight right? You wanted to see me. You've been thinking about me a lot huh?"

"Ok fine." You groaned. "I wanted to see you. I wanted you."

"Good girl."

He resumed touching you and enjoyed how you squirmed beneath him but the hardness between his legs was beginning to ache. He unzipped his jeans freeing his cock and pressed the tip of it at your entrance, gripping the back of your thighs. He was still fully clothed and you had a death grip on his t-shirt.

"Wait," You panted, pushing his chest. "Condom."

"I'm not human." He laughed. "You can't get pregnant."

Unable to wait any longer he pushed inside of you swiftly. You wailed at the stretch. He knew he was big and he knew he should have gone a bit slower but he was loosing any and all inhibitions. He started to fuck in to you, rough and controlling. You squeezed your eyes shut as you clung to him.

"Y/N." He whispered, tongue languidly lapping at your neck once more. He couldn't stay away. "I'm going to bite you."

You protested, shaking your head desperately but Yoongi was gone, past the point of no return. His teeth sank into your flesh and you cried out. He knew it would only hurt for second before the endorphins took over. A long, hot, red line dripped down your chest between your breasts. He moaned against your skin as he sucked the blood into his mouth. You tasted even better than he imagined.

Your pussy squeezed around him as you came, it made him light headed. Yoongi had to physically tear himself away from your neck before he did any real damage. He was scared he wouldn't be able to stop if he didn't.

Yoongi came a few thrusts later inside of you.

He pulled away to look at you as he came down from his high, feeling completely and utterly blissed out. You gave him a dreamy look. "Are you ok?" He said, voice low and breath ragged. You nodded. He gently put you down, a stark contrast to how he was fucking you before, his lust fuelled frenzy over.

"I'm going to be sore tomorrow." You said as you hobbled over to your discarded shirt and slipped it on. He readjusted his clothes and made himself decent as well. "Are you still going to stay?"

Yoongi scoffed. "I said I would didn't I?!"

"I'm going to go clean up." You looked at him as if you wanted to say something else but didn't. You left the kitchen and the regret of what he had done immediately began to sink in. He'd had sex with a human.

↪ chapter 02 

masterlist

[all1e23]

Swallow [Pt.11]

Chapter:  The Hardest Part

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky chooses his path. 

Warnings:  Adulty themes. Yes, I’m a grown-up, and I said adulty themes. General foreboding. Sweet, soft, protective Bucky. (Yes, that’s a warning. That could kill you!) Protective big brother Clint. ANGSTY. 

A/N:   We are almost there. I’m sorry this is so dark, but I swear it’s not gratuitous. All of this has a purpose. Two more parts! We are almost there loves. Fingers crossed I can have the series finished by this weekend? Maybe. Send me love because I’m needy.  No beta so read at your own risk. ;-)

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam though! Thanks!*

The kids were sweet. 

Quite possibly, the most adorable kids you’ve ever seen. Emma looked just like Peggy but had Steve’s eyes and soft smile. Henry? He was going to be a charmer, a regular James Buchanan Barnes -- a sweet talker with a kind heart. Morgan was smarter than you, that you were confident. She had clung to her brother at first but warmed up to you eventually. Steve was right; Tony’s sass could be cute when it was coming from that sweet face. 

You wished you could give them more of your attention but you couldn’t. Your heart hurt too badly to give more of yourself. You didn’t know what was happening, but you knew it was bad -- whatever trouble Bucky was getting himself into was not going to result in some fairytale happy ending. You sat downstairs with the kids and played for over an hour before your head and heart began to wander to a place they wouldn’t come back from on their own; you needed Bucky. Henry had become bored rather quickly and decided to follow Steve around, his little shadow Peggy had said. 

If Henry was going to look up to and aspire to be anyone, there weren’t many men better than Steve Rogers -- having a little bit of his Uncle Bucky in him wouldn’t hurt either. 

The girls took the absence of boys to talk about their favorite glitter nail polish, but Morgan didn’t seem to share Emma’s enthusiasm. Somewhere between the sparkle teal and cotton candy polish debate you snuck off, leaving the girls with their mothers and retreated to Bucky’s room -- your room according to Bucky. Or, well, maybe not now. You didn’t know if he ever wanted to see you again. You couldn't blame him if he didn’t. 

The bed sagged when you sat down on the edge, and you regarded all the bags and boxes you brought with you. Steve wasn’t judging your choices, but your boxes were -- especially a particular wooden box that held a lot more than just some old letters. You tucked your legs under you and sat the old box on your lap, running your hands along the edges. Stupid box. You had no idea why you kept it this long, it’s just a dumb box Bucky used to keep all your photos, concert tickets, and notes in. Somehow the damn thing ended up with you when you left, and you haven't dared to peek inside. 

If it's just a dumb box, then why couldn’t you look inside? You swore you could hear the case mocking you, judgemental and condescending tone firmly in place. “No one asked you, okay? I can open you if I wanted to.” You grumbled quietly to the empty room, taking a deep breath and forcing your fingers to flip the lid of the box open. 

A strangled sob fell from your lips that quickly melted into laughter at the sight of the note resting on top, ‘Meet me after English? I haven’t seen you in hours, and I don’t think I can make it another hour without kissing your lips, pretty girl.’ The paper had begun to yellow, and the edges were soft to the touch from age. 

You gently set the waned paper on the bed beside you as your fingers slowly flicked through the contents of the box -- so many concert tickets you couldn’t count them all, dried daisies you had long forgotten and piles of pictures that held your best memories. 

“Are you going to marry Uncle Bucky?” A little voice asked from the doorway, making you jump. You looked up to discover Emma and Morgan watching you with a curious glint in their eyes. Somewhere downstairs, Peggy Carter was far too happy with herself. You waved them in and set the box on Bucky’s bed so they could have a look, and the shock wore off enough for your answer. 

“Um, I don’t--I don’t really know.” 

"I think you should,” Morgan admitted. 

"Why's that?” You asked, an amused smile curling up your lips. 

"He loves you," Morgan answered with a head tilt and 'are you serious' expression on her face -- Tony's daughter. No question about it. 

“And you’ve loved him your whole life, and he's never loved anything as much as he loves you. That’s what momma says anyway,” Emma added, you quirked a brow up as you watched the girls flipping through your old pictures, you inquired, “What else did your momma say?” 

“That you both are stubborn and if you stopped running and talk to each other you could be finally together and be happy.” Emma giggled and held up a picture of you and Bucky from seven or eight years ago -- you’re not entirely sure at this point. It was a long, long time ago. 

The date didn’t matter, it was pre-breakup, before your dad and before-- back when you thought the two of you could get through anything as long as you had each other. The both of you looked so young and so full of hope for your future. That was a good day. You could see it all clearly; it was another clubhouse bonfire, and Peggy had snagged the picture while your eyes were focused on the fire and your attention was zeroed in on the salacious whispers Bucky was murmuring into your ear, and whatever he was saying had you both grinning a mile wide. 

Things were so much easier back then. If you could go back and tell yourself anything, you would tell twenty years old you,  just how easy she had it, spend less time worrying about the club and more time loving the man in front of her 

“You guys look funny.” Emma eventually continued. “Uncle Bucky looks weird with short hair and no beard, but you look funny, too.” 

You laughed and took the picture from her. “Gee, thanks. I think I have some of your momma and daddy in there, if you want to look, Emma.” The little girl’s eyes lit up, and she grabbed two handfuls of photographs to search through. 

Morgan climbed into your lap so she could look at the picture in your hand one more time, and said with a grin. “So you marry Uncle Bucky and then you can be my aunt! Can I be your flower girl? I like daisies.” 

You looked down at the bright little girl in your lap and back to the bundle of dried daisies in your box. She was too smart for her own good, “I think Uncle Bucky has to ask first, and that might be a long time away. I can still be your aunt, though.”  

“Okay, but I’ll tell him to get moving, so it’s official.” She said with beaming smile and bright eyes as if she just figured it all out because all your problems would be solved if you simply married Bucky, wouldn’t they? You couldn’t tell her the truth. She didn’t need to know that your life was far from a fairytale, and marrying Bucky would never happen. 

After all these years, at least you can finally admit it to yourself. 

--------

“I should have been expecting this I suppose.” Eddie started, strolling up to the tree Bucky was leaning against. When Bucky had called and said he wanted to meet, Eddie thought maybe a restaurant or somewhere with air conditioning. He should have seen this coming after his talk with Y/n, but he thought from everything he’s heard about their relationship she was ready to move on from all that death and destruction. 

“I didn’t think you still had that hold on Y/n. Wouldn’t be the first time I was wrong, though. I should have known she would run right to you.” 

“Don’t bring Y/n up again. I’d hate to rebreak your nose.” Bucky flicked the bud of his cigarette to the ground and leaned in as if he was inspecting Eddie’s injuries. He pursed his lips as if he was studying the damage and then, smirked as smug as can be all while he taunted him. “Looks like you still got a little purple under the eyes there. Didn’t get ice on it in time from the looks of it. You gotta move faster than that.” 

“What do you want, Barnes?” Eddie grumbled. 

As fun as it was to make Eddie squirm, he didn’t come here to ridicule him. “I want to make a deal.”

That had Eddie’s interest piqued. Getting Y/n to testify against the club was good, but having an actual club member, the former president, who knew every secret behind those big double doors and wooden gavel? That was gold. That was the deal he wanted to make from the beginning, but, he never found an in with any of them. This�� This could have potential. 

“What kind of deal?” Eddied pushed doing his best to keep the excitement out of his voice. Bucky caught it instantly and grinned like a cat that got the cream. “I can get you Red Skulls, president and all. You and I both know that’s a much bigger win for you than taking bring Steve and me in.” 

Bucky wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t enough. He was tasked with bringing the Winter’s Soldiers MC down, and there was no way everyone was getting off the hook -- not this time. 

“What else?” 

“What else?” Bucky echoed. “Taking down a large crime organization that's selling guns and killing innocent people ain’t enough for ya?” 

“No, it’s not.” 

Bucky smiled, but it was bittersweet. He already knew it wasn’t going to be enough. He had hoped, but he knew. 

“I’ll take ownership of the mess that happened two years ago. Out on Lone Oak. No one else from my club was involved, and everyone walks for whatever you found out during the few times you infiltrated my club like the rat that you are.” 

“I thought it was Steve’s club?” Eddie urged, disregarding the rat comment completely. 

“It was my father’s club and passed the gavel to me, it’s my club. I give the orders and take full responsibility for anything that happened over the last decade.” 

“Lone Oak, huh?” Eddie takes a deep breath. Lone Oak was a pretty big deal, and the case was never closed. It would be a huge deal to finally put the cold case to rest and have someone to charge for the mess of illegal weapons they found under all the rubble and ash. Eddie was pretty sure the credit for Lone Oak belonged to Schmidt, and Steve and his men were simply cleaning it up, but if Bucky wanted to take the blame and Eddie could claim the takedown, then who was he to fight Bucky on it?

“You’ll get the max with your record. That’s fifteen years--” 

“Seven and no parole.” Bucky countered. 

Eddie snorted and shook his head. “Seven is a joke. How about I just arrest all of you now? You, Steve, and Clint on gun charges. Oh, and Tony and little Petey boy on hacking into how many federal databases?” 

Bucky pushed off the tree behind him and started towards Eddie. “You can’t bullshit me like you can Y/n. She’s got a soft heart, and I know men like you use that to your advantage, but I know how this works. You don’t have shit on the club. Maybe you can arrest a few of us on minor charges, but Fury will have us out before you can finish typing your damn report, which is why you haven’t made your move and why you went after Y/n.” 

“I thought she should know who she’s going to bed with,” Eddie hissed. 

Bucky eyed him for a longer than usual pause, watching the man as if he was in the middle of working him out and discovering a weakness he could use against him. Bucky didn’t like the look in his eyes when he talked about Y/n, and he didn’t like his temper. It left a traitorous pit in of bottom of his stomach -- before this went any further, he needed to be sure his girl was safe. 

“What’s your deal? I gotta say you seem a little too invested in my girlfriend.” 

“You don’t remember me do you?” Eddie asked with a broad smile, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. It was born from anger, annoyance, and maybe, a little embarrassment. 

“Can’t say that I do,” Bucky answered, not apologetic in the least. The man threatened his girlfriend so no, Bucky doesn’t have an ounce compassion for Eddie Brock. Eddie sighed and glanced up towards the clouds before he explained.

“I shouldn’t be surprised. Y/n didn’t either. We went to the same school for four years, and not one of you recognized me, but none of you paid any attention to me back then either. How do you think I was able to slip in and go unnoticed for long?” 

“So that why you’re doing all this?” Bucky needed the clarification because if this is what Bucky thought it was, he had to make sure Steve handled Eddie once this was all over and he wasn’t around anymore. “You’re mad because she fell in love with me and not you?”

“No,” Eddie laughed -- Actually laughed at Bucky as if that was the craziest thing he could have said. “No, but she did help me once. It was a silly thing. She’s always had that soft side you mentioned, but everyone knew she was yours. There was no room in her heart for anyone else, and no one was stupid enough to fall for her when you already had her. James Barnes always got what he wanted. Always.” 

Bucky was torn between the overwhelming desire to laugh in his face or knock his teeth down his throat. There hasn’t been a time in his life that Bucky has gotten what he’s wanted. He wanted to tell him how he had to watch his dad die for the sake of the club, how he lost the other half of his soul, repeatedly, and how he finally got her back only to lose her again; this time it was for good. The only thing he’s ever wanted was Y/n, and he could never hold on to her. 

So, no, James Barnes has never gotten what he wanted, and that will never change. 

But he wouldn’t give Eddie that satisfaction -- he was getting enough.  

“Fury already has the deal worked out. Seven years, no parole and I’ll help you get the Red Skulls. That’s my deal. Take it or leave it.” 

Eddie still wasn’t sold, and Bucky could see it in the way he watched him, but that’s the thing with guys like Eddie, Bucky just had to wait him out. So, Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and stared him down as he paced back and forth in the grass. He damn-near wore a brown patch in the field before he finally stopped in front of Bucky and nodded. “Alright, I have to clear it, but for now, you’ve got a deal.” 

He held out his hand, and for a moment, Bucky wanted to take it all back, but he knew that wasn’t an option. He didn’t have a choice. Bucky slowly reached out to shake his hand, clasping the shorter man's hand in a firm grip. Eddie grinned, and Bucky yanked him forward, hard. Eddie stumbled forward, but Bucky held him in place by his navy blue blazer and snarled. “I don’t care what deal we made or where I am if you go near Y/n  again I’ll make sure it’s the last fucking thing you do. She’s not part of this. She doesn’t know anything.” 

Eddie ripped his jacket free fro Bucky’s grasps, but they both knew the only reason he got away with it was that Bucky has already loosened his grip -- if Bucky had wanted him to stay right where he was he wouldn’t have moved an inch. Eddie straightened his jacket and met Bucky’s dark glare, he took a breath before he answered.

“I know she doesn’t. The only thing she’s guilty of is being stupid enough to fall in love with you before she knew the real you. She should have seen you for what you really were like I did.” 

“She’s the only one who knows the real me,” Bucky whispered just loud enough for Eddie to hear. 

It was easier if everyone thought he was the one that duped her into loving him -- he chased her until she fell for him and she simply couldn’t fight it, but that was never the case. From the moment Bucky laid eyes on her his heart was gone before he knew what was happening -- he was the one that never stood a chance. 

All he’s ever tried to do was be good enough for her; maybe this will finally make him worthy of her love. Too bad he won’t be around to see that. 

He took a step forward and tapped Eddie’s pocket with his middle finger, right where his badge was hiding. He smirked when Eddie caught the gesture and told him. “Get the deal typed up and signed or I walk. I won’t make a move till it’s approved by the D.A.”

“That’s it? You’re ready to give up everything, just like that?” 

Bucky ignored the question and turned away from him. It was a dumb fucking question, and he didn’t have the patience to entertain it. Of course, Bucky wasn’t ready to give up everything. This wasn’t his plan. His plan was simple, help Steve one last time and finally, finally get to love his girl the way she deserved -- away from this town and most importantly away from the club. He had a brief fantasy of shared vows and maybe even some blue-eyed babies; the dream was gone as quickly as his brain thought it up. He walked back to his bike where his smokes were hiding, and it gave him a second to remind himself why he has to do this. He reached into his shirt and squeezed the delicate band in his rough, calloused hand. Bucky turned his head to glare over his shoulder at Eddie and sighed.

“Once it’s approved and signed by all parties, I’ll make the call.”

“It’s going to take a few hours.” 

Bucky let go of the ring and turned back around to face Eddie. There was no going back now, and it’s not like he had anywhere else to be tonight. “I’ve got nothing but time, Eddie. Nothing, but time.” 

Previous // Next 

[my-words-are-light]

Ngawooin: Chapter 3 — Stillness

I commissioned this image from NOPEYS

Click here to go to Chapter 2

Destiny dropped Neil off somewhere close to his home and allowed him to find his way back without her drawing attention to him. Now she could get back to her place, have a nice sit down to relax from Judgement whopping her, and then go to bed.

But first, she had to turn off this hero mode. One question: how?

She looked at her bow. Maybe she could get rid of it the same way she got it but in reverse? Maybe she could unsummon her weapon like she wanted to do with her armour or something? Nothing would do, just something that she could avoid using so she’d have a free hand. Nothing, nothing she could use to protect herself and fight, she couldn’t just go home looking like an extremely intricate cosplayer…

… Nope, her bow was still in her hand. You’ve got to be kidding.

Destiny fell to the ground on her back. She just wanted the day to be over. She was sore, tired, creeped out, shocked, surprised, irritable, hungry… the list could go on forever if she had the patience but she didn’t; she’d had enough of Judgement, had enough of Goetius, had enough of Riley for causing all this, had enough of her new power for falling into her and not someone else, had enough of this day as a whole and all she wanted was for it to just stop.

She closed her eyes.

She opened them soon after she felt another change to her body, to a… familiar state?

Her vision wasn’t tinted blue anymore. Her arms were bare again. So were her legs. She was back in her school uniform and the bow was nowhere to be found. Her hands went to her hair and, oh thank everything; it was short and blonde again.

She was back to normal. No more fighting monsters, no more… anything. All that remained was home. And the pain, too; Judgement’s hit still lingered in her stomach.

She got up, which took a bit more time than she expected. She winced and gasped as she felt the pain from her fight linger in her abdomen. Her pain tolerance must’ve been huge when she was transformed but now, back as her old self, it was really starting to smart.

As she walked home, holding her stomach, the night was oddly hushed. People were usually more active and loud, even at this time of night. Plenty of people would stay inside but at least the streets weren’t deserted. Maybe they were still worried about Judgement?

Meh, not her problem anymore. She approached her home, which was a simple weatherboard house only a single story tall with a roof of rusty corrugated iron and the walls covered in flaking, burnt amber paint. Like every house in Stillgate Street, really, except they all had their own unique paint jobs with different shades of yellow, orange, brown, or white.

There was one aspect aside from colour in which the Pride household was different from the others; Sergeant Judy Coles’ car was parked on the nature strip right outside. It should be noted that such was not usually the case, however, and that only happened when Coles was visiting for one reason for another, which didn’t help Destiny’s fatigue. As if tonight couldn’t be any more of a hassle.

Destiny took a breath and entered her house. In the entryway, she took off her school shoes and placed them on the shoe rack, which was just a wooden rectangle that her dad nailed two small wooden squares to and placed on the ground. Crude but it did its job.

“Who’s that?” called her dad, Saul Pride, from the dining room on the entryway’s left.

She sighed. She didn’t want to make a fuss but what could she do? “‘ey Dad, it’s me.”

A chair squeaked from scooting along the floor and her dad’s footsteps quickly carried him to the entryway. As soon as he saw her, his frantic eyes and the tense expression on his red face softened into tremendous relief. Saul was a heavyset man who chose to be a stay-at-home dad; he was rarely dressed for anything serious, preferring to wear a loose pair of navy blue pants and an unbuttoned red plaid shirt over a white singlet.

“Oh, Dezzie...!” he said with a cracking voice as he pulled her into a great big hug, making her wince. “Jude told me how some great big monster found you! I’m so happy you’re okay...”

Speak of the devil, Judy Coles had just stepped into the entryway. Compared to when she came across Destiny and Judgement, she was a lot less panicked and confused, although she still looked tired and irritated. She looked more at home with her typical frown and her arms in the pockets of her police jacket. She wasn’t the warmest police officer but that was something Ngawooin got used to.

Destiny grunted from the hug. She was a bit too sore for this sort of affection right now. “Sorry, Dad...” She returned the hug as lightly as she could manage. “I was just hiding.”

“Good, good on ya. It’s important you’re safe.” Dad pulled away and placed his hands tight on her shoulders. He looked her up and down, inspecting her with worry. “What happened? You’re acting like you’ve been kicked around a fair bit. Did anyone hurt you?”

Destiny rubbed her stomach. “I’m a bit raw but nothing too bad. The monster never got me. Coles came in the nick of time and I ran to the park and hid there.”

“I looked for you there,” said Coles. “I searched every bush, nook, and cranny and you were nowhere to be found. Exactly where were you?”

Destiny gulped. “Well, I, uh, left at some point. Didn’t know if the big guy was going to find me there and I wanted to get away.”

Coles crossed her arms. “But why didn’t you head straight home?”

“Oi,” said Dad, raising a finger at the police officer while keeping his other hand firmly on Destiny’s shoulder. “Not now. Back off.”

Coles’ face flashed with irritation for a moment, but she then calmly raised her hands in assurance. “Sorry. Long night.”

“I can relate,” sighed Destiny.

Coles smirked. “Fair. You sure you’re alright, though? You do look really sore.”

“Yeah, nothing serious. Just need a bath to deal with some aches.”

“Well alright then. You dropped your shopping, by the way, so I brought it back. Late night dinner, I suppose.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Jude,” said Dad. “Wanna stay around for dinner? I reckon we’ll have enough for you too.”

“That sounds great but I have to say no.” Coles walked to the door. “Need to ask around, see who else saw that monster and pick up statements.”

“Sure it can’t wait? You’re going to need a lot of energy for tonight after everything.”

“Actually, no. It can’t wait. I need to do it now while everyone’s still awake and they can’t pass it off as a dream or something.” She grabbed the handle. “Oh, Des?”

“Yeah?” said Destiny.

Coles fixed Destiny with a serious stare. “I saw you with the big guy and I saw you run off. That’s all good but, just to be sure, did you see anything else?”

Destiny was confused but she slowly shook her head. Maybe she was talking about the whole superhero thing. “No… I just stayed hidden.”

Coles sighed. “A’ight. Stay safe. And I never thought I’d say that in Ngawooin.”

“First time for everything,” said Dad. “G’night, Jude.”

“And to you, Saul. Both of you get a good sleep tonight.” Coles left and shut the door behind her.

Destiny hissed in pain as she walked into the dining room. She pulled out one of the wooden chairs at the table and slumped down, resting her head on her folded arms. The lounge room had a sofa but she just needed to sit down right now. “First time for everything. Including giant monsters, huh?”

Dad rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, that was pretty stupid. But I think everyone’s tired and scared. Just what happened today? Where did that big guy come from?”

“Bugger if I know. Is mum home yet?”

“Nah, she’s back tomorrow. Good thing you weren’t hurt that badly, otherwise she’d have been back yesterday.”

“Hi Des!” called Destiny’s little brother as he ran into the room. Milo, only seven years old, had very short brown hair and wide brown eyes. “Are you okay? Dad and Jude said there was a monster and a superhero outside!”

“Hey Milo,” said Destiny, not lifting her head. “Yeah, that’s about it. That’s why dinner’s late, sorry.”

“Did you see ‘em?” Milo asked, sitting next to Destiny. “What was the monster like? What about the hero? Did you talk to them?”

“Milo, let your sis be,” said Dad. “She had a run in with that monster and she’s lucky she wasn’t hurt.”

“It’s good.” Destiny waved him off tiredly. “The monster was like a big knight with a big black robe and it had this big axe that looked like a judge’s hammer…”

“Those are gavels,” said Dad.

“Whoa!” said Milo. “What about the hero?”

“Ugh…” Destiny rubbed her eyes against her arms. So much had happened tonight and it was hard to get her thoughts in order. “I dunno. Didn’t see ‘em.”

“Des, kiddo.” Dad was setting up the dinner ingredients on the bench. “You’ve had a rough night. We all have. Maybe it’ll be good for you to have a bath and relax before dinner.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” With a groan, Destiny pushed herself up from the table and stretched. “Need to clean myself from sitting on dirt for half an hour too.”

“Hey Dad,” said Milo, “since there was a monster, can I stay home from school tomorrow?”

Dad turned around quickly to refuse as he normally would but then he paused. “Actually, that might be a good idea. It’s quiet now but it might come back...”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” said Destiny right before she wished she didn’t. How could she possibly sound sure of that? That’d be suspicious at the very least…

Dad shook his head. “I know you like to underplay problems but you have to admit this is kind of a big deal.”

Oh thank goodness; her apathy protected her from scrutiny. “Yeah but, like, what about the hero? Didn’t they take care of it?”

Dad pursed his lips. “Y’know what? Tomorrow morning, I’ll call Jude and ask if it’s safe for you two to go to school. If she says that monster’s still a risk, we’ll just hang out here at home and play games or something.”

“Yes!” Milo pumped his fist. “I hope she says it’s still a problem.”

“I don’t,” grumbled Dad. “But it’s still important you go to school. You need to get out of the house from time to time so you can learn and make friends.”

“But you stay home all the time.”

“That’s because I went to school.” Dad grinned and placed a plastic bowl on the bench. “And I do all the work around the house. I cook, I clean, I wash the clothes, I’m basically always busy. You’re lucky you don’t need to do anything for stay-at-home days and you can just lie about all day.”

“Aw…” groaned Milo. “Does that mean I won’t be allowed to have fun if I grow up?”

“Oh you’ll be allowed. You’ll just need to make time for it.”

“Alright,” said Destiny. “As fun as this conversation isn’t, I need a bath. See ya.”

“Take care, Des,” said Dad. “Dinner’s going to be a while so take your time and relax. You’ve had a long day; you’ve earned the rest.”

“Thanks,” mumbled Destiny. “Looking forward to something to eat.”

She made her way to her bedroom first. After the bath, she was going to want to change into something comfortable for the rest of the night so she was going to get her pyjamas ready.

Her bedroom was very simple. She had no posters or paintings or anything on her beige walls, preferring to leave them bare. Her single bed had white pillows with a pale green blanket and a doona cover depicting sheep-shaped clouds with a sun in the middle. Aside from that, she also had a small desk with an office chair and her laptop, which was very old and couldn’t stay powered for over an hour unplugged so it basically served as her desktop.

Her fitted closet was opposite her bed. Her pyjamas were in the bottom drawer. It would be simple to retrieve her sleepwear and continue onto the bathroom but Destiny had spent the night getting superpowers and fighting her classmate who was possessed and transformed. Being hurt and truly spent of energy, she collapsed onto her bed.

She had never felt this tired before. She had never exercised a lot or even done much in P.E. but she never thought that this sort of fatigue was humanly possible. It was hard to even think, let alone move. She held herself together in the conversation with Dad and Milo but, on her own in her bedroom, she let it all go. She stopped trying to hold it all together and fell as she pleased.

Forget the heroics. Forget Judgement. Forget Goetius and Neil. All she could think was that her bed had never felt so comfortable in her life.

[mst3kproject]

620: Danger!! Death Ray

Buppa-duppa-da-dah… ba-dup-dup-dadda-da-dah!  Yes indeed, while Radar Secret Service’s distinguishing feature was a lack of distinguishing features (honestly, it lacked features, period), Danger!! Death Ray’s is the second most persistent earworm in the MST3K canon.  Only the Sad Mushroom Ukulele Anthem is worse.  I guarantee you that Buppa-Duppa-Da-Dah will be the soundtrack to all our inner monologues for the next week – complete with Tom Servo going “wait for it… ting!” every time.

Radiation expert Dr. Carmichael has invented a Death Ray, which he shows to the UN on condition it be used only in the interests of world peace.  At the summit in disguise are agents of the international arms dealer known as Scarface.  They kidnap Carmichael and steal the Death Ray, and take them away to be used for nefarious and non-world-peaceful purposes!  Elsewhere, the CIA or somebody drags agent Bart Fargo out of bed to put him on the case.  He follows Scarface’s toy submarine to Barcelona, where the Death Ray is turned over to the mysterious Mr. Carver.  It’s up to Fargo to find Carver before he can put his ill-defined plans for Carmichael and the Ray into action!

I don’t want to believe this movie was actually filmed in Barcelona.  Barcelona is famous for its art and for architecture ranging from the Gothic to the Art Nouveau, which make it one of Europe’s most popular tourist destinations.  Danger!! Death Ray makes the city look like a suburb of Detroit.  That’s actually kind of impressive in a very perverse way.  It’s as if they filmed in the Vatican and lit Michelangelo’s Pieta to make it look like a pile of elephant dung – yeah, it’s kind of amazing that they managed that, but… why?  If your point is that even the world’s most beautiful cities have a seedy underbelly, then you still need to show us the pretty parts for contrast.  If you actually can’t afford to go to Barcelona, that’s why stock footage exists.

At ninety-three minutes, the movie is a bit too long for its own good, and very little of what MST3K cut has any real effect on the plot – the beginning is particularly padding-heavy.  Those of us who only know Danger!! Death Ray through the Satellite of Love missed the opening bit where the bad guys ambush the car taking delegates to NATO and take their places, but even in the bit we saw the opening drags.  There’s the extended sequence of driving in the dark that serves no purpose except having credits over it, and then the whole bit with guys in suits walking through wherever the hell they are to get to the Death Ray lecture room.  Surely the driving could have been cut down a bit and the credits extended into the White Guys Walking in Herds, to save some time and patience!  The movie never again gets that slow but later chase or stalking sequences all go on a little too long, and there’s no reason to see as much as we did of things like the dancers at the restaurant (instead of seeing, for example, the nice parts of Barcelona).

The hero of Danger!! Death Ray is Secret Agent Bart Fargo, played by a guy named Gordon Scott who spent most of his career playing Tarzan or Maciste.  We’ve already seen him in the Episodes that Never Were, in Goliath and the Vampires.  Fargo’s got a lot in common with Brian Cooper of Secret Agent Super Dragon, and all of it is the stuff I spent that review complaining about: he’s introduced to us in bed, and he goes right back to bed with practically every woman who crosses his path.

In terms of establishing him as a glamorous secret agent, Fargo’s introduction is actually worse than Cooper’s.  Cooper, meditating by his pool, was at least establishing that he can hold his breath for a long time, which comes in handy later when the bad guys nail him into a coffin and throw him in a river.  Fargo is literally in bed, supposedly on vacation, and gets scared awake by two women who just walk right into his hotel room.  Our hero, right here.  Then, like Cooper complaining that he’s retired now, Fargo’s response to being told to save the world is that he doesn’t wanna, he’s supposed to be on vacation.  I think we’re meant to assume that the UN demanded the best to retrieve Carmichael and his peace-loving death ray, but Fargo was going to Toshi Station to pick up some power converters, damn it!

Was this a thing in the sixties?  Secret agents who would rather stay in bed?  If so, why was it a thing?  Is it supposed to make him relatable?  I know I would rather stay in bed some days, but that’s probably why I’m not in charge of saving the world from guys with Death Rays.

In the man-slut category, Fargo is even more than a turd about it than Cooper because unlike Cooper, Fargo already has a steady girlfriend.  He’s seeing his boss’ secretary, Roberta, and has promised her a trip to Majorca.  In Barcelona, however, he is immediately captivated by Lucia, an artist who sits around painting female nudes while wearing very few clothes herself.  I dunno about you guys, but if I met a woman who did that I would probably assume she’s not into the whole ‘heterosexuality’ thing.  Then again, she asks him out, so I guess what’s actually going on here is the writers just thought it was hot.  Fargo and Lucia hit it off spectacularly, but then a blonde he met on the plane turns up at his door and he immediately takes her to bed despite the sign around her neck that says ENEMY AGENT. Then in the closing scene, Roberta (remember her?) is trying to contact Fargo on his radio wristwatch, reminding him about that trip to Majorca, and he takes the watch off and throws it in the pool before running off with Lucia! Not even an I think we should see other people.  What a prick!

At least nobody ever ties our hero into a death trap.  When these bad guys want to kill Fargo, they use actual knives, guns, and other things that do not allow him more than half a second to think and get out of the way. The Society of Halfway Smart Villains approves.

All right, so besides Glamorous Secret Agent tropes, what else is going on in this movie?  Does Danger!! Death Ray have anything much to say?  Surprisingly, it kind of does.  The very existence of the titular weapon seems to be trying to tell us something about the nuclear arms race.  If you listen to Dr. Carmichael’s presentation to the NATO guys without the riffing, he explains what he means when he says he created a Death Ray to ensure world peace: it’s intended as a deterrent – nobody will dare to start a war if they know they might be Death Rayed for it!  This was the justification for the arms race throughout the cold war, and it worked for the major powers, I guess.  They got to live in relative peace while making smaller, less prosperous states do all the fighting and suffering for them.

The existence of a Death Ray probably wouldn’t change that, but Danger!! Death Ray isn’t really interested in that problem with the arms race.  It’s interested in the other difficulty that periodically dogs our nuclear-armed world: sooner or later one of those doomsday weapons is going to get into the hands of somebody with insufficient understanding of the consequences, who might actually use the damn thing.  The movie demonstrates that Carver is in this category by having him threaten Lucia and Fargo with the ray, which is completely overpowered for the purpose – a handgun would do fine.  Of course unwise use of his weapon of mass destruction bites Carver in the ass, but only a little – he realizes that his burning a hole in the door of his secret torture dungeon is the only reason Fargo was able to get in.  This isn’t the most emphatic way for the movie to make its point, but if they couldn’t afford to show us Barcelona then they definitely couldn’t afford to Death Ray the Sagrada Familia, so I guess they used what they had.

There appears to be a second, lesser motif going on as well, and that’s to do with the idea of watchfulness.  At the beginning of the movie, when the Death Ray is stolen, it is removed from a compound full of security cameras – at the end, when it is recaptured, it is taken from a villa where the security cameras have guns.  In both cases we see a guy watching a bank of tv screens, panicking as he tries to do something about the developing situation but ultimately unable to prevent catastrophe.  This seems to be an earnest attempt to bookend the movie, and what I think it’s trying to say is that watchfulness is not enough.  In both scenes, the guy looking at the monitors is powerless to act.  The NATO guy is shot and help arrives too late to save him or the Death Ray.  Carver does slightly better in that he can shoot at what he sees, but he cannot aim, and the more mobile Fargo takes his cameras out one after the other.  High-tech security is all very well, but no match for actual people.

As you can probably guess, I’m not sure if any of this were intentional or whether I’m just reading it in.  It’s possible that the writers just thought Death Rays and security cameras with built-in machine guns were really cool.  I mean, we are talking about a movie in which an assassin hurls himself at the hero only to go flying right out a window, and the movie treats it as a narrow escape instead of a moment of slapstick comedy.  God, I love that bit.  Even without Mike and the bots I laugh every time.

Danger!! Death Ray is basically just another crappy EuroSpy movie, but it’s a better crappy EuroSpy movie than Secret Agent Super Dragon… in fact, when I think back on the other installments, it may just be the best of MST3K’s crappy EuroSpy movies, but I feel like it’s too early to make that judgment for sure.  I need to see the rest of them before I bring the gavel down.  It definitely has the catchiest theme song, though – buppa-duppa-da-da-da-dah!

[caffineheadaches]

Hello, dear! You've been visited by the random character question fairy! :D ~☆

How good is your character's foresight? Do they think their actions through, or are they more spontaneous?

To be honest most of my characters are spontaneous like me so I'll just list the exceptions and why, this might get a bit lengthy I have a lot of characters. Keep in mind that nothing about my characters are fully set in stone, especially things like pronouns. Things may also not make sense because I am tired and don't understand words

Parva, this sweet bun boy runs his own business so it's kind of a needed skill, also he has anxiety so he's constantly over thinking.

Juniper/Juno, out of her and Fourth she's the only one with braincells. She also is the main one to take care of their cat Belladonna.

Funnily enough Fourth's two other forms have pretty good foresight! Soul Gazer makes people have nightmares they can die from and most of them are specially hand crafted for the recipient. Souls Guardian on the other hand does the opposite (kinda? Idk I haven't thought up much for her) but still has a lot of foresight.

Umi, I haven't thought this gal out much and she's a kinda old character but she runs a magazine business (I'm not sure what to call it? She just makes magazines) so she needs to have some foresight.

Ange, she works with Umi and is the main photographer for her magazines. I've also not thought her out much but as a photographer she needs to think out her pictures, but out of that she's pretty spontaneous.

Vivian is pretty calm, so she generally has good foresight. Though when she loses her cool she does not hold back.

Gabriel/Coco, is a MAJOR wip character so this is bound to change. Coco thinks out most of what she does, but she ends up having to lose all of that when pretending to be Gabriel. (She's an old character but the idea I had in my head back then is she pretended to be this angel gal so people would like her.)

Olive is pretty shy so she's gotten to think a lot out. Her foresight is pretty good but it can go out the window in favor of impulsive panic at times.

Yukuro is the same as Olive.

Gavel is a lawyer she needs to think stuff out. I love this object gal but my goodness she will be spontaneous unless it involves her dragging Hourglass and Pawn away from where they can create chaos.

Laptop tends to have pretty good foresight but her team really wants her to speed things up a little. Like Parva she also has anxiety (I think she's still a wip character).

Blanket is very spontaneous, but at the same time he's constantly overthinking his actions.

Chessboard is pretty self explanatory. He's literally a chessboard he thinks out every single move.

Typewriter tends to think things out, he's not quite used to interacting with other people though so he panics in a conversation and would much rather just sit and watch everyone else.

Flashlight is pretty spontaneous, the only moments when they aren't is when their anxiety takes a hold of them.

Dynamite is a weird mix between spontaneous and has a plan for literally everything.

Bot is the co-host (at the moment) so it's their job to be able to see everything through. They usually set up the challenges and see everything through so of course plenty of foresight is needed.

Stella still a wip but basically for her creation I decided I needed someone with science or something like that rights, or just the smart nerd so she exists. As this kind of character she generally has a good amount of foresight.

Card is a magician, except he doesn't do it to amuse or wow others. Since he's a magician he needs and had the foresight able to do his tricks.

B.D., short for bandage is a general nurse/doctor, so she definitely has at least an above average amount of foresight.

Badgey is a police officer, so she too has the foresight needed for that profession.

Wow that actually made me go through all of my existing characters. I'll reblog this if any new characters are added and edit it if anything needs changed.

[jarlet-blog1]

24. Truth vs Lies ~ by Jax

The sun was slowly setting over the horizon as Jax and his crew rode past the old, carved wooden sign of announcing one’s arrival to Charming. The warm breeze was hitting the biker president’s scruffy cheeks, blowing the ends of his light hair from under the helmet that sat securely on his head. Another day was behind them and he was looking forward to rolling back into TM to conclude the long hours that made up that day. He would be lying to himself if he expected life as he normally knew it to stay as quiet and as peaceful as it had in previous weeks. Their time was normally filled with chaos not calm filled business transactions. As much as he enjoyed settling into what some would call the domesticated life with Scarlet and his son, he knew that shit would be short lived. He would be naive and a complete moron not to expect it and at the same time be ready for it. The days of their lives were better known to be filled with chaos and turmoil and Jax knew better than to think that shit wasn’t coming.

His foot quickly downshifted his Dyna as he rounded the next turn, his hand easing on the throttle as they rolled into the place they all called home. It was true that most of the MC considered the clubhouse more their home than their actual place of residence. Their lives were spent around that reaper table and not one of them would ever choose differently or regret a single moment. Jax could recall only a few times he had ever thought seriously about walking away from the club. He wasn’t exactly sure if it had been a blessing or not that he hadn’t decided to leave. The legacy of the gavel he held daily was in his blood; it was meant to be held by a Teller and he was the only hope for that to happen when he forced Clay Morrow to step down. It was a choice his ex wife had accepted but he knew deep down she hated it. She wanted the white picket fence, kids, dog and him as a normal working man. It was something that would have never happened which was exactly why it didn’t. He was merely a mediocre mechanic with a GED. An outlaw was the only thing he knew and did well. Jax Teller was a smart man, but his smarts didn’t take him to a corporate office, his took him to the streets where he was a CEO in his own right. And in recent days his ‘office’ was exceptionally calm.

His feet lowered to the asphalt as he walked his Harley back into its normal resting spot at the head of the line. With a flick of his ankle the kickstand found its way down to be the support for his mechanical beast. His eyes darted rapidly around the lot, taking in the usual surroundings as his brothers mimicked his recent actions. Swinging his leg over the saddle, both feet once again made contact with the pavement below as he pulled each finger from his leather gloves. His blue eyes peered through his riding glasses, finding the matriarch herself sauntering out of the garage office headed straight for the gang of brothers.

“Hey baby. Good day?” Gemma placed both of her aged hands against her son’s chest where his signature leather rested. Without a moment of hesitation in his actions, Jax brushed a kiss over his mother’s still smooth cheek. The woman that birthed him surprisingly still didn’t show her true age. She was still a fox, now just a fox in her prime. He really couldn’t have been prouder of his mother and the sacrifices she had made for him and the club not to mention the ol’ lady that every woman behind her would ever stride to be. That also included his ol’ lady, Scarlet.

“Quiet day, ma. How’s shit around here? Scar gone home with Abel?” Jax questioned as he plucked the leather strap open from under his chin, placing the helmet on the custom T-bars. Taking a single step away from his Harley he slipped his glasses from his eyes and stuffed them to the inner pocket of his kutte. As Jax strutted his normal stride towards the clubhouse door, he turned his head to study his mother’s expression as she followed, his steps in time with the clicking of her high heels boots as they fell upon the pavement.

“She’s already gone. Abel was resistant, baby. Are you sure..” Gemma questioned as Jax quickly ended his mother’s words, already privy to what she was about to spew.

“Mom, he has to get used to Scarlet being around. He’s fine with the other damn girls, with Unser, Chucky...what the fuck is the problem with Scarlet?” Jax’s tone dripped with annoyance; he was aware his young son was still processing Tara’s death but he was convinced Abel needed a more stable woman in his life other than Gemma. Scarlet was now pregnant with his child, she wasn’t some random croeater he dipped his cock in once in awhile. She wasn’t going anywhere, as long as he had something to say about it.

“I know Jackson but are you sure about her? For Abel? For you?” Gemma halted her steps and grabbed at her son’s elbow, causing him to turn to face her.

The tone of Jax’s earlier annoyance was now evident on his expression. His mother loved to stick her nose in his shit, especially when it concerned a woman. And while he understood her concern, she also needed to know when to back the fuck off.

“Jesus Christ. Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now? She’s carrying /my/ baby. She’s /trying/ with Abel. What the fuck is wrong with you?” The anger displayed on Jax’s face was clear; he was done with this bullshit when it came to the women in his life. It had nothing to do with Scarlet but it had everything to do with his mother’s own insecurities.

Since Jackson was a teenager Gemma made sure to know everything about any girl he ever dated. Tara Knowles being the first. There was always something wrong with /anyone/ he crushed on, dated or even fucked. Wendy faced the same ridicule that Tara did, even though his mother pushed for the marriage between them only for her own selfish wants of a grandchild. And now Scarlet was going to be reprimanded the same as the other women in his past life. And he wasn’t about to let that shit continue.

“Baby, I know you think you love her. I love her. She’s Otto’s daughter but..” His mother hesitated and did her famous lip bite when she seemed nervous or hiding something.

“But what?” His breathing became deeper as Jax attempted to control the anger that was now boiling in his gut.

Gemma took a step closer to her son, fixing the edges of his kutte before dancing her hands down over the chest of it, running her fingertips over the President’s flash that was sewn securely to the leather as her dark eyes lifted to his. He wasn’t stupid, she was trying to smooth him over like she always did. What she didn’t know was whatever she was about to say to him wasn’t going to change anything. Nothing at all. But Gemma being the manipulative woman she could be would use any means necessary to get her way, lying or otherwise.

“Are you aware how close she is with David?” His mother batted her long lashes as she tried to drop a bomb he didn’t want to consider. The thought had entered his mind the night Scarlet spilled the truth about her being pregnant. For all he knew she was carrying David’s child; he didn’t know just how close they were but it was an accusation he wasn’t willing to bring up to Scarlet, not now and probably not ever. In all honestly he felt it was just his own insecurities causing those lingering thoughts no matter how hard he fought to keep that shit at bay. Truth was they hadn’t known each other long before she showed up throwing the pregnancy in his face. He’s be pretty stupid to /not/ think there could be other alternatives even when he didn’t want to.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He pulled away from Gemma, turning his brawny body back to her, making another step towards the clubhouse door.

With a sense of panic Gemma’s eyes shifted as she watched her only son walk away, blurting out before thinking. “I caught her with him!”

The words fell from Gemma’s mouth before she had time to think. The lie erupted from her painted lips before she had time to even consider the possible damage she could cause. The words hit Jax’s ears, unable to be fully processed before he caught his lips curling in a snarl.

“You what?!”

Luckily Gemma was the queen of weaving deception and thinking swiftly on her feet.

“I went to your house. He was there. They were..umm..baby, just trust me, she’s not the one for you.” Gemma frantically brushed her bangs from her eyes before they scanned the pained and angered expression on her son’s face. After Scarlet’s prissy, almighty attitude with Gemma a few days before, as much as Gemma wanted another grandchild, the matriarch was prepared to do whatever it took to put her in her place. Otto's kid or not.

“You know what mom? I don’t wanna hear it! Stay the fuck out of my shit! You got that? I ain’t tellin’ you again.” Jax’s finger was pointed sternly in his mother’s face. He was getting tired of her butting her nose in where it didn’t belong but at the same time he couldn’t help be curious after hearing her accusation.

“I’m just looking out for you and Abel, Jax.” Gemma took a quick, deliberate step forward, gaining a sense that her plan was going to backfire.

“Just leave me deal with it. She’s my ol’ lady goddamnit!” Without another look at his mother he turned, making his way inside, moving straight for the head of the reaper table only to be stopped by Chibs.

“Brotha, everythin’ a’right?” Chibs grasped Jax by the elbow, stopping him in his tracks. The VP was very in tune with his young president’s emotions, especially when the anger radiated off of him as it was in that moment.

“I’m fuckin’ fine. Cancel the meet with Collette. I ain’t in the mood to deal with a bunch of whores today.” Clenching his back teeth the blond biker never looked at another member before taking wide strides to the room they would normally all gather in, slamming the double doors behind him.

Harshly Jax gripped the back of the leather chair and tugged it back, spinning it just enough to flop his ass into it. Leaning back he scrubbed his rough, tainted hands over his tired face. If it wasn’t club business he was dealing with it was his fucked up personal life. Never a dull day, not in the life of Jackson Teller.

He noticed his hands were shaking as he reached into his kutte and grabbed the case he kept his Marlboros in. With a quick flick the top opened before he brought it up to his mouth to slip one out, holding the filter with his teeth until his lips firmly tightened around it. Lifting his ass from the seat he eased the cheap lighter from his pocket, swiftly igniting the end, watching it burn bright red as he inhaled. Plucking the smoke from his lips he stared at the wall across from where he sat, twirling the lighter in his fingers. His thoughts drifted to Scarlet and the look David had given him before they peeled out of TM the day Scarlet told him about the life she was carrying inside her that supposedly belonged to the King of Charming. Before the full image could form in his mind Jax drew back and whipped the cheap ass lighter across the room. The strength of the throw caused plastic and metal to slam into the wall, shattering upon impact. The smell of lighter fluid quickly consumed the room along with the loud snap of the thing exploding. Within seconds there was a knock at the door.

“Boss?” Tig’s head peeked in through the cracked open door.

“I’m fine. I just need to be left the hell alone alright?” Jax turned the chair so his back was to the entrance to the room, removing the cigarette from his mouth as a steady stream drifted into the air, the sense of the doors once again being closed behind him. His head rested against the high back as his eyes flickered to a close. He felt like his life was a fuckin’ mess at yet another particular point in time. Club shit was good, easy, quiet. But the other half of his life was in turmoil, or so it felt like. Nothing was ever easy for Jax in that sense. Any time he tried to balance the life of being a father, husband and outlaw, one or all went to shit. And here sat another of those times. He wondered if it was all worth it; it felt like he had to be all in or all out. Was that the answer? With a new child coming into his life that he silently swore to himself was his until proven differently, was that what he needed to do? Give up the outlaw life? Become a domesticated man like an animal in a cage? The mere rationalizing of it made his stomach turn in knots. Him, a normal man. He knew it wasn’t in the cards but was it truly time to give up the only life he knew, put the club that he loved so much behind him and concentrate on his family? Tara had all but begged him to take Abel and leave Charming with her only a few years prior and he had contemplated it but the decision remained the same as he assumed it would now. But was it time to finally make the difficult choice he knew was there but regretted? His children deserved a life outside of the disarray of his outlaw life. And Scarlet. She deserved more than the life she had been handed. He imagined Abel going down the same path she did; growing up with the violence and hatred, chaos and wreckage, growing up to know nothing more than killing or be killed. The contemplation of it made him cringe and his skin crawl. He wanted more for his son, he didn’t need the anguish and torment that came with the mc life. He knew even at Abel’s young age the tendencies were there; he was a miniature mirror image of Jax. Abel was demonstrating more tantrums and chaotic behavior as time went on. Jax couldn’t be sure if that was because he was twisted up from Tara’s death or if it was actually parts of him rubbing off on his young son. Either way it was a life he didn’t want for Abel, whether the gavel was someday his destiny or not. But at the same time he contemplated the decision to leave his heart and mind wandered to his brothers, the family that he had chosen. It tore him in two to even consider making a decision between the family he was given and the family he has chosen.

After taking in a deep, ragged breath Jax blew the last of the bluish grey smoke up into the air, filling the space where he sat secluded and alone. The room was dim which led him to believe it was later than he cared to realize. Scarlet would probably be sending her usual text wanting to know where he was and if he was okay and with the hidden message wondering when he would return home. He was conflicted about so much but unable to rectify any of it. What if what his mother said was true and she had in fact caught his ol’ lady with the man that was supposed to be there for club business but most of all his long time friend? For all Jax knew David and Scarlet had been together or even friends with benefits. How the fuck could he know that what his mother blurted out wasn’t the truth? He felt the vein in his temple throb the more he considered it a possibility despite wanting to. Does he question her or let it slide? After all it wasn’t like he had much room to talk; he dipped his dick in whore pussy many times while on runs when he was married so he had no right to question her sex life before or hell even after him. Deep in his heart he felt that Scarlet would never lie to him but how could he be sure? He’d only known her a few months, there was a strong possibility she could be pinning the baby on him for obvious reasons. He was a Teller, head of the Sons of Anarchy and able to take care of her and her child almost better than anyone.

“Jackie?” The accent that could only be Chibs echoed into the room as the door once again pushed open. As annoyed as Jax was he expected it; having time alone was a rare commodity. Still leaned back in his chair he turned, locking eyes with his vice president.

“Yeah?”

“Ye a’right brotha? Been in here a long time.” Chibs urged forward and took his seat at the table without asking Jax’s permission.

“Just thinkin’ ya know? All this shit with Scarlet and the baby. Is it wrong of me to think there’s a chance it ain’ mine?” Jax slipped another cigarette from his pack, slowly placing it to the corner of his lips.

“Nah brotha. Ya just met the gal. But shite happens ya know? But I don’ t’ink she’s lyin’ to ya, Jackie.” Chibs offered Jax a light, guessing he needed one after Tig relayed what the sound was from earlier.

The prez’s blue eyes raised with Chib’s words. Jax knew his brother would never lie to him. He’d always lay it out whether the truth was good or bad and Jax actually at that moment felt confident that Scarlet was in fact telling him the truth about the baby she was carrying. But why would Gemma spew the lie she had earlier? From anything Jax had saw with any interaction between the two shit seemed fine, that the two had actually been getting along. But when it came to his mother, there could be any number or reasons she was pulling shit. Question was, was it worth the headache it would cause to confront her with it any further? Right now, Jax had no energy or interest to address the bullshit with Gemma. If she had a beef with Scarlet, they’d have to work that shit out on their own, he had enough on his own plate on a daily basis.

“Thanks brotha. You’re right. Scarlet got no reason to lie. But Gemma…” Once again he felt his teeth clench after resting the fresh Marlboro on the edge of the ashtray.

“She’s jus’ tryin’ ta protect her baby boy, Jackie.” The grin creased the Scot’s face as his hand clapped on Jax’s shoulder. Sometimes all he needed was a little reassurance from the men that cared more about him than if they were blood relation.

“Yeah, I know.” Retrieving the cigarette, Jax took another inhale as Chibs turned to exit.

“By the way, Scarlet called. Was worried she hadn’ heard from ya. Might wanna call ‘er soon.” With a reassuring smile Chibs left the room, leaving him to himself again.

Fishing in his pocket he pulled his burner out, his brows furrowing in wonder as to why she hadn’t called him if she was worried. It was odd that he hadn’t heard from her. Flipping it open he sighed heavily, tossing it on the table. Dead. No wonder he hadn’t received so much as a text. He took another pull from the filter of his cigarette, quickly stubbing it out as he raised from his seat. It was time to go home. To his son and his ol’ lady. Decisions hadn’t been made but in hindsight they were. He was the President of SAMCRO, he couldn’t turn his back on his brothers and at the same time he couldn’t turn his back on his family. The saga of meshing father, husband and outlaw would have to continue into another day.

[theconservativebrief]

On Tuesday, close to 200 climate activists crowded into the Capitol Building offices of House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, who will re-assume the position of House speaker when the new Congress is sworn in come January.

The activists called on Pelosi to lead Democrats in developing an ambitious, comprehensive plan to address climate change — a Green New Deal. Halfway through the protest, rising Democratic star and Rep.-elect Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez visited to show her support, which drew a torrent of media coverage.

New Dem star protests speaker on first day of freshman orientation! The media loved it.

[embedded content]

I’ll be honest, though. I’ve seen intra-left disputes on climate change reprise themselves over and over again, to no one’s benefit, and when I heard about this protest, I felt a twinge of dread. Why target Pelosi, who has always been a climate champion? And how is she supposed to have a comprehensive climate plan already when she hasn’t even taken the gavel? Aren’t there worse enemies of the climate to protest?

But I talked it out on Twitter, emailed with a few of the organizers, and now have a better handle on what’s going on. And it turns out to be quite a bit richer and more significant than what you might get from the headlines.

As I said in my Monday post on Democratic climate strategy in a polarized era, there are three basic prongs of a unilateral left strategy. The first is using House congressional committees to investigate and slow President Trump’s deregulatory agenda. The second is accelerating policy innovation in states that Democrats control.

And the third is defining a long-term, comprehensive federal climate agenda for when/if Democrats regain the power to implement one. That is why climate activists swarmed Pelosi’s office. The left is making an early bid to set the highest bar possible for the 2020 Democratic climate change agenda.

Here’s how it unfolded and what’s at stake.

AOC thanks climate protesters. Sunrise

Climate hawks received a few disconcerting signals in the wake of the midterm elections (which turned out to be a much bigger victory for Democrats than they appeared early on).

A piece in the Hill reported that House Democrats had no plans to move on climate change, which appeared nowhere in their list of priorities. Meanwhile, Pelosi, who is very much intent on keeping her speakership, started talking the day after the election about a “bipartisan marketplace of ideas,” which is not exactly what you’d call reading the room.

Pelosi had signaled that she planned to revive the Select Committee on Energy Independence and Global Warming (2007-2011, RIP), but activists and the incoming class of social democrats wanted something much bolder. They needed something to rally around.

And here it is: AOC plans to introduce a draft resolution that would put parameters around the committee, its work, and its membership. It is … bold, to say the least.

The resolution — supported by the Sunrise Movement and Justice Democrats, two youth-led organizations pushing for a Green New Deal — has a number of interesting provisions, but two demands are central: that the committee be given a mandate to develop a Green New Deal that would decarbonize the US economy, and that no members be appointed who accept donations from the fossil fuel industry.

Reinstating the Select Committee is a great decision that I fully support.

These dynamic leaders want to ensure is that the committee: – Has a mandate to draft a Green New Deal for 100% renewable energy – No appointed members that accept funding from the fossil fuel industry

— Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (@Ocasio2018) November 13, 2018

Specifically, the committee “shall have authority to develop a detailed, national, industrial, economic mobilization plan for the transition of the United States economy to become carbon neutral and to significantly draw down and capture greenhouse gases from the atmosphere and oceans and to promote economic and environmental justice and equality.” It would be required to produce a draft plan by January 1, 2020, and draft legislation by March 1, 2020.

In other words, the committee must produce a package of legislation ready to move if Democrats take power in the 2020 elections.

Here are the goals the resolution sets for the Green New Deal:

(1) 100% of national power generation from renewable sources; (2) Building a national, energy-efficient, “smart” grid; (3) Upgrading every residential and industrial building for state-of-the-art energy efficiency, comfort and safety; (4) Decarbonizing the manufacturing, agricultural and other industries; (5) Decarbonizing, repairing and improving transportation and other infrastructure; (6) Funding massive investment in the drawdown and capture of greenhouse gases; (7) Making “green” technology, industry, expertise, products and services a major export of the United States, with the aim of becoming the undisputed international leader in helping other countries transition to completely carbon neutral economies and bringing about a global Green New Deal.

That … pretty much covers it! It’s difficult to imagine how you could get any more ambitious than that.

Of course, every one of those bullet points represents dozens of policies and thousands of implementation challenges. Wonks like me look at this list and we wonder about the details. We wonder so hard, our hair tingles.

But that’s not really the point, at least for now. The point is this represents perhaps the first time in US history that a Democrat has proposed a plan for addressing climate change that actually scales to the problem and has some chance of influencing the party’s agenda.

Pelosi testifies at a House hearing on climate change — way back in 2007. Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images

But there’s more. The resolution is equally ambitious on the subject of equity. It says that the Green New Deal “is a historic opportunity to virtually eliminate poverty in the United States and to make prosperity, wealth and economic security available to everyone participating in the transformation.”

To that end, it instructs the committee to develop a plan that would include a job guarantee, measures to combat income inequality and racial injustice, and maybe a universal basic income (UBI) for good measure.

Here’s the full list of equity provisions:

(i) provide all members of our society, across all regions and all communities, the opportunity, training and education to be a full and equal participant in the transition, including through a job guarantee program to assure every person who wants one, a living wage job; (ii) take into account and be responsive to the historical and present-day experiences of low-income communities, communities of color, indigenous communities, rural and urban communities and the front-line communities most affected by climate change, pollution and other environmental harm; (iii) mitigate deeply entrenched racial, regional and gender-based inequalities in income and wealth (including, without limitation, ensuring that federal and other investment will be equitably distributed to historically impoverished, low income, deindustrialized or other marginalized communities); (iv) include additional measures such as basic income programs, universal health care programs and any others as the select committee may deem appropriate to promote economic security, labor market flexibility and entrepreneurism; and (v) deeply involve national and local labor unions to take a leadership role in the process of job training and worker deployment.

As iv demonstrates, this is about much more than carbon. It doesn’t separate out the climate problem from society’s other ills, as climate wonks have so often advocated. It sees environmental, economic, and social problems as intertwined, with a common set of solutions.

It’s a full-spectrum vision of a sustainable social democracy — a level of progressive ambition that most US citizens have likely never encountered.

As for how to pay for this, all the resolution says is that funding will primarily come from the federal government, “using a combination of the Federal Reserve, a new public bank or system of regional and specialized public banks, public venture funds and such other vehicles or structures that the select committee deems appropriate, in order to ensure that interest and other investment returns generated from public investments made in connection with the Plan will be returned to the treasury, reduce taxpayer burden and allow for more investment.”

So that’s AOC’s proposal: a committee on steroids, charged with developing the most ambitious national climate plan in history, with equity at its heart.

Political media desperately want the story of this protest, and AOC’s participation in it, to be another chapter of “Dems in Disarray.” But the truth is close to the opposite: This was a case of the Democratic base and leadership working together for mutual benefit. It was one big alley-oop.

Here’s how it went down.

Sunrise and Justice Democrats were planning a protest to push Pelosi on climate. AOC and her staff, who are in close touch with the activist left, suggested that protesters need something concrete to rally around, some specific demands; that’s why they wrote this draft resolution.

So protesters go to Pelosi’s office — where the cameras will be — as a show of force, to demand that Dems stop taking fossil fuel money and start planning for a real climate solution. AOC then comes to visit and support the protest, thus bringing more attention and more cameras.

Together, they help thrust climate change into the news cycle and get the term “Green New Deal” published in most of the nation’s newspapers, a fairly adroit bit of agenda-setting in a hostile media environment.

As for Pelosi? It would not surprise me at all to find out that she knew it was coming — was maybe even in on it. At the very least, she welcomed it and gave it further publicity:

Deeply inspired by the young activists & advocates leading the way on confronting climate change. The climate crisis threatens the futures of communities nationwide, and I strongly support reinstating the select committee to address the crisis. https://t.co/rjVJYSJraf

— Nancy Pelosi (@NancyPelosi) November 13, 2018

Of course, this falls far short of accepting the protesters’ demands. (There will be much more intra-Dem negotiation before anything like that happens.)

But Pelosi is signaling to Democrats on her right that she is being pressured from the left on climate change, that this is where the energy and enthusiasm is among the party’s most active young supporters, that Dems will get hounded endlessly if they don’t act on this. She and AOC are working together on this, not at odds.

Thank you, @NancyPelosi.

We have 10 years left to plan and implement a Green New Deal before cataclysmic climate disaster.

Reinstating the Select Committee is exactly what we need to do. https://t.co/Uy5BnrLZcR

— Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (@Ocasio2018) November 13, 2018

Now the trick is to build more pressure. “Right after we left Pelosi’s office,” Evan Weber of Sunrise tells me, “we went to the offices of Raul Grijalva, Mark Pocan, Pramila Jayapal, and Ro Khanna to ask for their support for the resolution.”

So far, freshman Reps. Khanna, Rashida Tlaib, and Deb Haaland have endorsed the resolution. The movement is pushing for more and believes, according to Weber, “there is actually an opening to have this resolution included in the rules for the new Congress.”

This is how activism is supposed to work. The climate left sent the signal it needed to send — that it is mobilized and fully willing to be a pain in the ass — and Pelosi was happy to amplify it. The political world heard.

It is an inverted mirror image of the Tea Party: Rather than trying to bring out the worst in Republicans, activists are trying to bring out the best in Democrats.

I admit, I have trouble envisioning the resolution passing in anything like its current form — it’s such a quantum leap from where the party currently stands. But I have proven an abysmal political prognosticator in recent years and no longer presume to predict anything. Maybe it will pass!

Regardless, it strikes me as a significant development in US politics that there is finally a constituency for full-scale mobilization on climate change — for making decarbonization a top national priority. At long last, there is an actual climate left! Perhaps that label will no longer be applied to a bunch of hapless wonks and economists.

Just as the Republican House climate caucus is shrinking, the Democratic House climate caucus is growing. And as it grows, its ambitions increase. The Overton window is shifting before our eyes.

In the long term, Waleed Shahid of Justice Democrats tells me, the movement will focus on “repeating the success we had in recruiting, training, and helping elect Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.” The idea, he says, is to “build a caucus of like-minded, mission-driven legislators who will fight tirelessly for solutions that match the urgency and scale necessary to tackle the systemic crises in our country.”

From California to New York – @justicedems challenged the status quo by running candidates who truly represent the people – not corporate interests. Candidates who come from all walks of life and fight for voters, not donors. pic.twitter.com/nie8co7dpB

— Middle Seat Digital (@MiddleSeatCo) November 13, 2018

Suffice it to say, that won’t be easy. There are many among the 200-and-some House Democrats who are not going to look with delight on the prospect of supporting a huge, deficit-financed investment plan that includes a job guarantee and possibly a UBI. And that’s to say nothing of how Democratic senators might feel on the subject. Centrist and more conservative Democrats from purple states will not go gentle into this good night.

But now the 78 percent of Americans who say they support a clean energy transition have something to rally around. Now there is an actual left flank on climate change, a coalition of civic groups and elected officials who take the IPCC’s warning — that we have only 12 years left to take transformative action on climate change — seriously.

And like it or not, having a left flank will inevitably mean that Democrats in positions of power come under pressure and suffer criticism.

”Today’s Republican Party is an organized alliance between fossil fuel billionaires and white supremacists. They must be stopped, and we are not confused about this in the least,” says Weber. “Stopping the Republican Party does not mean unconditionally supporting everything that Democrats do; to the contrary, it means fighting for the party to lead vocally and unapologetically on issues that matter to the majority of Americans.”

Original Source -> Climate activists to Nancy Pelosi: go big or we won’t go home

via The Conservative Brief