#i watched so many interrogations and court proceedings now

[hilow]

yall i hate violence and true crime shit but i also CANT FUCKING STOP WATCHING/LISTENING TO TRUE CRIME SHIT HELP

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Trials and Tributes (2/5)

Summary:  

"There were witches who lived among them. Or so that's what Levi was told. He just could not believe for the life of him that she'd be one of them."

Levi is a soldier who interrogates witches before they are put on trial and Hange might just be a witch.

Levihan Secret Santa Gift for @cleacourgette

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Link to other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

Notes: This is an early posting. The posting period is from January 3-10 so I timed the chapters in a way that the story will be complete by the time the posting period starts. I planned on waiting a bit later but I’m expecting life to get a little busy from January 4-10 since I’ll be going back to work and moving houses so I decided to get this done and posted now while there’s still time. Either way I hope you enjoy! 

“When there’s no moon in the sky, please don’t visit my cabin.”

“Why?”

“One day, I promise I’ll tell you.”

And that one day never did come. She never did tell him.

As Levi watched the court proceedings, he couldn’t help but think that maybe she would never be able to keep that promise of telling him herself. The trial would pull the answers out of her, the bishop in charge of interrogation in front of the high court would twist into something more digestible for the public, the crowds that filled the large trial room.

Although Levi had a seat near the front of the room. The acoustics of the room and the murmurs around him made it difficult to hear Hange's voice from where he stood.

“Hange Zoe, youngest daughter of the Baron Zoe. Or at least, that was what we had tortured out of our late baron.”

If Levi had not been trained in the art of keeping calm at the thought of blood, he probably would have had to stifle a wince. He was present when the whole Zoe family was brought in for interrogation only a few days ago. They were quickly deemed traitors, accomplices to the witches, tortured then put to death.

But Hange hadn’t even been proven a witch yet. Levi was sure there were at least political motivations in that impulsive decision to put the family to death. He had stumbled upon some hearsay that within a few days of their capture, a new noble family moved into their manor. The capture of Hange was only the nail on the coffin. A fair catalyst to a usurpation of power. A motivation that Levi almost found valid, but not at all anything worth admiring.

“It turned out Baron Zoe had been hiding a witch in his family. Why he had decided to take one in? Or how he had he raised her to become a servant to the devil. We do not know.”

I swear! She’s my daughter! And she’s not a witch! He had sworn that until his death. That was what Levi witnessed at least as he forced himself to watch the tortures and executions done in private. Human executions were too grand and expensive of a festivity. Of course they would save their budget for the youngest adopted daughter who was suspected of witchcraft.

Levi did not think she was adopted though. He had seen those hazel eyes enough times. Her father’s were the exact same shape as hers, the nose curled the same way. If Hange really was a witch, then maybe the witches from a young age were powerful enough to take whatever appearance pleases them. Or maybe she had sworn allegiance to the devil years after.

Or that was what they were discussing as Levi pondered it. To a degree, Levi could not help but doubt even his own assumptions. If witches were that powerful, why did all of them so easily die when they were burnt at stake. Why did so many of them drown as they were thrown into the sea?

“According to the results of the interrogation, Hange Zoe disappeared at the age of eight, right after she got involved in the murder of a child her age.”

There were loud murmurs coming from the crowds behind him, a few gasps. A murder at the age of eight?

“We thought a witch had kidnapped her then. It might just have been an awakening of her powers since soon after she disappeared, the plague happened. Many children lost parents, many parents have lost kids but isn’t it weird that the Zoe family didn’t lose anyone but their murderous child who turned out to be alive decades after? Coincidence? I think not.”

Despite identifying as one of the kids who had lost their parents during the plague in question, Levi strangly found himself coming up with an argument against that accusation. The Zoe family was rich. They lived in a ten hectare parcel of land, a fifteen minute carriage ride to the main square. They had servants to go shopping for them and access to the best doctors. Of course they wouldn’t have experienced as many losses as the common people. It applied to any noble family . Levi only had to look at Erwin next to him to guess that he was probably thinking the same thing.  

They called a witness to the stand. Levi quickly refocused his eyes to the center of the room when the crowd went silent, watching a burly man make his way to the table designated for witnesses.

He was introduced as a pub owner and praised for taking the long trip to the capital to tell his story. The praises and exaltations only continued from there. “This man over here had the courage to step forward and report the witch who had been hiding in their small town.” The bishop announced as the pub owner slowly made his way to the stand.

Courage? That was definitely not the right word.The man did not look at all terrified to be on the witness stand. In fact, he had looked proud. His dinner jacket and his coat were luxuries that were completely non existent in the small town he had come from. Levi couldn't help but suspect bribery was involved.

He allowed himself a glance at Hange. Hange was looking at the man on the witness stand, her face a mixture of confusion, recognition and something else. That something else on her face only made his stomach twist tighter into a knot.

With the abundance of stimuli to take in as the courtroom exploded into murmurs, Levi only found it more difficult to comprehend that nagging feeling in his stomach. He turned to the witness, leaving to them the responsibility of giving him the answers he needed.

“More than a decade ago, an apothecary opened up in a cabin in the woods, a thirty minute walk from the center of town. Despite its humble beginnings, it amassed quite a reputation. Soon everyone in town knew about the doctor who can cure any illness. Even townspeople from the neighboring towns would make the journey to her clinic for healing."

“And you were one of them?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “But I had no choice your Grace, there was a disease going around the village which caused watery stool. I had gone to other doctors first but none of them were able to cure it or trace the cause. I’m sure you would understand a father’s love for their son, being so close to the Lord our Father yourself.”

“A father’s love for the son cannot be quantified. I understand the desperation which may have caused you to dabble into witchcraft. Your sins and the sins of the townspeople are pardoned. You mustered up the courage to turn her in after all.”

The man nodded gratefully. “When I arrived in the small cabin in the woods, I recognized that voice and those eyes almost instantly. The way she spoke, you only see that confidence among the nobility and those eyes… Those were the hazel eyes of a Zoe. But the Zoes lived on their own land far from the woods. I only had to take a closer look though to realize that she was the missing Zoe. The murderer who killed poor Tommy more than a decade ago.”

A chunk of the room gasped.

Of course, put a name on the victim and suddenly everybody sympathizes. Was the name of the victim even Tommy? Levi had heard enough hearsay wandering around town to know it probably wasn’t Tommy. He looked to Hange to see her face was unreadable with maybe a hint of confusion and as Levi looked a little closer, he finally figured out what it was.

Betrayal.

“Didn’t she cure your son?” The bishop asked as he read through what could have been records, maybe from interviews from others around the town.

“She did cure my son. And she was able to diagnose the disease and trace the cause to one of the wells in town. It turned out he had an unfortunate case of er… dysentery.”

“There were numerous cases of dysentery around your hometown only recently apparently.” The bishop continued. “And it was traced to the well in the middle of the square. It was Hange who reported it to the officials.”

“Definitely an attempt to wash her own hands of sins and to gain the goodwill of the people, good sir. To a lot of people in the town, she was a miracle worker but mind you, with that level of skill with medicine, chemicals and diseases, she can’t be human. How do we know she didn’t start the plague for her own selfish reasons? Only the one who started it could have known it came from the well.”

Because she isn’t selfish. Levi just knew. In fact, he was sure she would have done all that out of the goodness of her heart.

Levi only ended up questioning his memories of Hange as the crowd exploded into boos and jeers all directed at the brunette in the middle of the room. The latter had bowed her head and Levi was left having to imagine what she might have felt at that moment.

The crowd mentality was apparent among those in the room. Others were starting to pelt things at Hange, pieces of trash and stone. Levi couldn’t help but be grateful for the guard that had quickly escorted her out of the room when some of the trash started to meet their target.

“I smell politics,” Erwin commented.

Levi felt a wave of relief come through him with Erwin’s words. The crowds had only made him question his own memories and his own emotions. Was he supposed to be as angry or as terrified as them? He never had been towards any of the witches. The emotions he had felt towards Hange, definitely influenced by their history together resonated much stronger and were fighting for more control than Levi would have wanted to give.

At that moment, when Erwin, the one person in the army he trusted and looked up to, validated his problematic thoughts, Levi was quick to let it consume him further.

Just like with the many witches he had interrogated, Levi somehow knew they were just as much of a victim as everyone else.

Maybe Hange was just another victim.  

                                    Trials and Tributes

Levi took a sip of the tea she had served him. The herbs were fresh from the herb garden she kept.

She had a way of mixing the leaves to make the aroma linger on his nose. The tea she served varied depending on what was blooming, what was in season. She always picked the strongest herbs with consequently the most distinct aromas. Even the smallest sip, had his whole mouth exploding in aromas of what could have been fruits or flowers. Her skill with mixing had made him sharper when it came to tastes and scents and Levi was sure he would only be enjoying more tea in the years to come.

“What are your plans?” Levi asked, an attempt at conversation. Hange had been oddly quiet since he started to express his interest in army recruitment.

Hange shook her head. “No plans. I don’t know how long I’m gonna have to stay here.”

“Fine, but if you could leave. What would you do first?”

Hange played with the mug on her hand. A small smile creeped up her lips. As Levi looked closely though, he could see her eyes were far from smiling. It was a look of pained yearning. Why can’t you go out? He had asked that so many times before only for her to digress.

She shrugged. “I wanna see more people… Meet new people, make friends, learn from them.”

“Maybe you can start with the townspeople?” Levi said. She had mentioned before, she never went to the town, for reasons.

“Maybe when things calm down, I’ll start an apothecary," Hange said. "You know,  working with you has made me realize something.”

“What?”

“Maybe I can help people and I think that’s what I want to do.”

                                   Trials and Tributes

“What happened when you were eight years old?”

Levi did not waste any time as he entered the room. He was relieved to see that none of the trash had hit her hard enough to wound her. She was unharmed, save for a few scratches.

“I never did tell you huh?”

Levi had hoped that she would deny it. All he saw in her eyes though was a brief realization at that particular omission. Was she really a murderer? A witch?

“We’ve known each other for years but you never told me anything about your childhood.”

“I thought you’d come back and I thought maybe I could tell you then when it was all over.” Hange smiled. Her look was accusing and Levi could tell what she had wanted to say just by her eyes. Maybe if you came back you’d know.

“We’re here already. Just tell me. What happened?”

Hange shrugged. “After I ‘murdered’ him?” She had put a little more emphasis into the word ‘murdered’ than what was necessary, her tone almost mocking. That was the word many of the people in the trial had used though. The circumstances of how the boy had died were left out of the records and only left a little more suspicious. “I started living in a cabin in the woods and then I met you.”

“Your full name is Hange Zoe?”

“My father is Baron Zoe.”

“I would expect your parents would have been rich enough to cover for the murder of a peasant child.”

“The circumstances of his death were strange. Strange enough that the townspeople had come together to organize a witch hunt. My parents had me live in a small cabin in the woods and forbade me from seeing anyone else at least until the hysteria ended. It was lonely but they did visit once a month to bring food… They’d sneak in when the nights were at their darkest…”

“When there’s no moon in the sky, please don’t visit my cabin.”

“Why?”

“One day, I promise I’ll tell you.”

Hange had started to ramble from there yet Levi’s thoughts were still a few steps behind. “What were the circumstances of the boy’s death?” He asked.

She shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I never saw the body and no one told me about it.”

                                    Trials and Tributes

“But what happened to make them think you did it?”

"I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to.” Teddy was already on his knees in embarrassment. “It was an accident!”

“Yeah but my mom’s gonna give me a beating when she finds out I soiled my shoe. Maybe you should have watched where you were going!”

Hange winced as she watched Tobias kick the small boy in the stomach. “Can we go back to playing pirates now? You can just clean it yourself when you get home!” She had known for a long time that Tobias was a warmonger and had done her best since they first met to keep conflict at the minimum.

“What do you know Zoe? You have servants to wipe it off for you!”

“Well, what if I bring it home and have it washed for you?” Hange suggested. Tobias' eyes had seemed a little wild and it did nothing to placate the foreboding feeling that tickled her chest. She had to find a way to pacify him fast.

“No. I want him to pay.”

“He already apologized.”

“I don’t accept words. I want actions.” Tobias said as he moved his foot a little closer to Teddy’s face. The latter was doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach. Hange couldn’t even tell if he was still conscious.

That was until Tobias gave him a light kick on the face. “Clean it.”

Teddy opened his eyes weakly and looked up at the owner of the shoe. “I’ll bring it to the nearby river now.” He had brought out his hand to remove the shoe from Tobias’ foot.

“No. Clean it with your mouth.”

“Tobi. Stop!.” Hange screamed. A second later, she found herself looking back to see that the other boys were silent. For a few seconds she had wondered if she should stay silent too. Was that the right thing to do?

That few seconds were more than enough though for Tobias to goad Teddy into sticking his tongue out and licking the soiled portion of his shoe.

“Stop it!” Hange was only started to panic more, her heart started to beat wilder as she watched Tobias push the sole of his foot into Teddy’s face.

“I…kan...gtttt.” I can’t breathe.

Hange comprehended more than enough of the situation. “You’re killing him!” She looked back at the other boys who only stood by unmoving. WIthin seconds, Teddy had stopped struggling and Hange was only starting to realize that someone had to move or someone was going to die.

A bunch of cowards. She muttered one ugly word at the boys behind her before she launched herself at Tobias.

His surprised face was priceless. Having been too preoccupied by it, Hange did not notice what was going on until it was too late.

It could have been anger or fear that had spurred her on. But alas, she had used too much of her strength. She had launched into the air, the two boys beneath her. She was flying from the dirt trodden path where they were playing their game of pirates only a second ago and into the grassy fields next to it.

A split second later Hange’s head was spinning as the impact of the fall shook her body.

She had little time though to process that though. Soon after the impact came a bloodcurdling scream.

                                Trials and Tributes

“A Bible Test?” Levi did not need to ask what it was. In fact, that wasn’t the question running through his head when the clergy had informed him of their next plan of action for Hange. He had to keep a straight face as they explained it, having decided for himself so long ago how incredibly archaic and maybe even pointless that test was.

The priest nodded. “Yes. The Bible Test,” he said so confidently that Levi was relieved he had concealed the judgement in his face so well.

“But isn’t a little too…”

The priest continued to look at him expectantly.

Archaic? Prone to error? “Flawed…” Levi managed to say. “I mean she is an important prisoner to you.”

“Yes she will be going through other tests as well. We just want to make sure of everything. ” The priest had said the word everything with so much emphasis that Levi almost believed that they were actually messengers of the god they so enthusiastically preached about despite their numerous vices.

“So when will it be?” Levi asked.

“As soon as possible.”

‘As soon as possible’ came that evening, a few hours after the priest had called him to the office to discuss the next plan of action of the trials of Hange. It was a small ceremony with only a few priests to witness the event. Levi couldn’t help but note that it was more important then to keep a straight face with multiple pairs of clergy eyes eyeing him and the prisoner next to him.

Hange was next to him at that moment though as he scanned the faces of the clergy members all lined up on their seats in front of him. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved though since their eyes were all trained on Hange.

One of the guards guided Hange into one of the platforms of that large contraption that took up a huge chunk of the room. It wasn’t at all unfamiliar. Levi had seen the bible test in action so many times before.

If the Accused were weighed in Scales against a Bible, the Bible would prove too heavy for them . Therefore, being lighter than the bible would prove that they were guilty.  

Or so, that’s what they had explained to him. Levi though had secretly tried that on himself a year ago, a way to cope with the guilt of silently watching a small woman receive a death sentence after she had weighed less than the largest bible in their library.

Levi had turned out to be much lighter than that bible he had tested with then. Unless I am a witch? It was a casual thought he allowed himself as he watched multiple servants haul a much larger bible into the room. The bible they carried might have even been twice the size of what Levi had weighed himself with years ago. He couldn’t help but think, the clergy had fixed the results of that test already.

Hange looked a little confused as well as she watched the bible be hauled into the room in some sort of wagon.

Had no one explained to her what would happen? Levi had not time himself having had to deal with paperwork before the trial. When he did meet her in the trial room, all eyes were on Hange though and there was no time to discuss anything between themselves.

The bishop rose to his feet as soon as the wagon was pushed to a halt next to the platform opposite Hange.

“A servant of the devil should not be able to take the weight of God’s words...”

Blah blah blah. Levi had heard that same speech before. His eyes were on Hange though who had started to grip more tightly the ropes that connected the platform to the beam on top of the weighing scale. She had started to understand as well what they were planning on doing.

Through experience, Levi knew already that no person they had ever put on trial could ever be prepared enough for that moment when the large bible is dropped on the platform opposite them. Hange was no exception. Although there was the determination in her eyes and maybe the defiance at the system that made that trial possible, it was quick to be replaced by surprise and maybe fear as she faltered when the scale rose and rocked beneath her. She was only held together by the ropes she had held on to so tightly.

“So it looks like she is a witch.” One of the clergymen said, looking too satisfied with the conclusion.

The clergymen converged in their seats and from where he stood, Levi could make out some of their conversation.

Pricking Tests. Swimming Tests. Ducking Stools. Burning at Stake.

He had seen them more than enough times to picture how they would go about so accurately. Just imagining Hange’s face in the stead of the many others that had gone before her only made Levi’s stomach turn. He was sure he wouldn’t want to watch Hange go through that.

“Just a suggestion, your grace,” Levi said as he closed in on their congregation. “Since we’re already here and we have a bible in front of us, would it be possible for us to try the prayer test?”

                                Trials and Tributes

Hange liked reading. When she wasn’t talking to him, she was usually focused on her experiments or a good book. Levi had let her be more often than not, having seen the way she made the goofiest smiles or the most crestfallen faces as she stared at pieces of paper. It was entertaining enough at least.

“Hey, why are you smiling?” Levi asked. Her smile at that moment was a little wider than usual and her face softened as her eyes followed the words on the page.

“I was smiling?” The smile quickly disappeared as Hange looked up from her book, replaced by a look of astonishment and maybe confusion.

“You sometimes smile when you read.” Levi commented.

“Well, there’s not much to do here. I don’t meet a lot of people, can’t go out so I guess i just get a little too invested in reading.” Hange explained, looking apologetic.

“I think it’s okay to smile,” Levi said, hoping that would be enough for Hange to relax. She had looked too tense since she looked up from her book. She continued to stare expectantly at him though.

“What line were you just reading?” Levi asked, an attempt to get her to relax and look back at her book.

“It’s from Canterbury Tales.”

Levi sat next to her and scooted near enough to have a good view of the line Hange was pointing at.

For Goddes love, taak al in pacience

Oure prisoun, for it may noon oother be;

Fortune hath yeven us this adversitee.

Som wikke aspect or disposicioun

Of Saturne, by sum constellacioun

Hath yeven us this, al though we hadde it sworn;

So stood the hevene, whan that we were born.

We moste endure it, this the short and playn.'

Hange started to read it aloud soon after.

“For a goddess’ love, talk all in patience

Our prison, for it may no one other be;

Fortune has given us this adversity.

Some weak aspect or disposition.

Of Saturne, by some constellation

Has given us this, although we had it sworn;

So stood the heaven, when that we were born.

We must endure it, this, the short and playing.”

                                    Trials and Tributes

Levi had heard her read aloud many times before. He was sure it was at least going to be a more accurate test than the bible test they had put her through just a second ago.

The accused will be made to recite the “Lord’s Prayer” without error – this included any stumbling, stammering, or outright spasming. As elocution is a painstaking art, it seems that any average human would slip up, but under “God’s eyes” mistakes are unacceptable.

Every single person he had watched who had taken the test had failed. It was just too easy to slip up with too many eyes boring down at you. When that one recitation could determine life and death, Levi had seen many of the accused witches go crazy on the spot, even before they could finish. He knew though, Hange was different. Hange never stuttered when she read, even when she had on the largest smile or the longest face. He had made her read aloud many times to know.

She was guided to a table and the bible was placed in front of her.

“Matthew Chapter 6, Verse 9-13,” the bishop ordered.

The servants carefully flipped through the pages of the old bible while Hange watched. Levi felt his heart race as he followed her eyes as they scanned the pages of the bible. Hange put her finger on one line and spoke:

“After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so on earth. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And bring us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.”

And forgive us our trespasses..

And bring us not into temptation.  

Levi listened closely to those parts in particular knowing the most common errors were made there. He had peeked at the congregation as those parts came up to see that the bishop had bent forward from his seat as if he too was focusing on Hange’s words.

She did beautifully and Levi was almost mesmerized to see the way she had read it aloud. She had timed the rests well, breezed through the words when she needed to. For a second, Levi could even imagine he was once again in the cabin, listening to her recount the words of Chaucer and the story of the knight.

“For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”

Trespasses. A word so easily to stumble on but Hange had glided through those words as smoothly and as quickly as water striders on a shallow pond.

Hange went silent after the last word, looking at the clergymen expectantly then at Levi.

She isn’t a witch. Levi nodded in return, willing himself not to return the subtle smile she had given him. His heart only clenched though as she dropped the smile.

I’ll smile later. When it’s just the two of us. He had hoped she at least got that message when he raised his eyebrows at her. With the way her hands shook from their place on top of the open bible, Levi was sure she didn’t.

Or maybe she saw something else Levi could not see from his angle.

He turned a little to the side, moving closer to Hange. From that angle at least he saw the serious face of the bishop, and the way the bishop had raised an eyebrow at her, as if he were studying a fattened cow and picking the best place to slice it.

“Too perfect. It was a trick of the Devil," the bishop concluded.

[jadekitty777]

It’s done. It’s done! HOLY SHIT IT’S DONE. Two months later and I finally complete this monster of a tale. I can’t believe the effort this baby took that, once upon a time, was supposed to be a oneshot.  Gosh, I hope for those reading the wait was worth it - I for one am so relieved to complete this!

(Still) Day 8: Free Day for @taiqrowweek

Rating:  T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 16k - yes, 16,000 words

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: ...On Your Every Word

~

Between the hecticness of getting checked in, shown to a private room where Qrow was allowed to be uncuffed and dress in more ‘court appropriate’ attire, and then meeting up with Rhodes for one final run down – the next hour pretty much passed in a blur.

Before he knew it, he was walking into the massive conference room in which the UFK did all their business. The room was mostly taken up by tiered, half-circled seating so that the four kingdoms could face one another as they talked politics. But the rest of the room was left open, allowing for a “stage” in which prototypes of innovations could be placed or guest speakers could stand. This area had been transformed – at the far ends were two desks for the defense and prosecution to sit at and a single chair in the center for the testimony portion. There were a few reporters standing near the entrance so they could capture every second of the trial, but no gallery for an audience. Qrow wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

He took the seat beside Rhodes at the defense table, clasping his hands in front of him to hide their shaking. He was certain his scent was giving him away anyways.

The prosecution came in next. The tall, sharply dressed beta strutted in with a smirk and an aura of arrogance, like he’d already won before proceeding had even begun. Qrow had heard bits and pieces about Arthur Watts – apparently, Pietro and he had a long-standing rivalry in the courtroom, though the elder man didn’t go much into it. What he had gathered was the lawyer was sharp on his feet and merciless. He could change tactics faster than a snake bite and the only defense who’d ever been able to keep up with his quick wit was Pietro himself.

“Gentlemen.” Watts greeted them, snide in just one word. Qrow was already annoyed.

The questioning portion was going to go great.

Finally, the entirety of the UFK filed in, taking their seats in their respective portions of the stands. Over thirty people in all, there were many faces Qrow recognized and even more he didn’t. Yet, the four that took the only seats in the front row, the heads of the councils, needed no introduction. First was the jovial and high-spirited Theodore, the representative of Vacuo, who’d held his position so long because the votes always ended in a landslide on his favor. Beside him was James Ironwood, holding two seats on the Atlas council and, as a medaled general of the military, had helped to fund some of the most prolific technological advancements of their age. Next sat Leonardo Lionheart of Mistral, a man who’d spent his many years in term building up the educational needs of his people, and had the average-high tests scores to prove that focus had paid off. Lastly, was Ozpin, who was the youngest head of Vale’s council ever to be inaugurated into office and since that induction, had been pushing forward as many progressive policy changes as he could.

These were the four Qrow would have to plead his case to and hope he drummed up enough sympathy for them to pardon him.

From the way they looked down upon him, eyes seeming to judge the very way he breathed, it never felt more impossible.

“If we’re all in order, I believe we may get started.” Ozpin was the one to speak up and though his voice was something Qrow recognized easily, there was something so uncanny hearing him in person, rather than on the radio or TV. “Though it’s a tad untraditional, Theo, James, Leo and I will all be your acting judges for this trial. Each one of us can sustain and abstain a motion and we will move this trial along if any filibustering starts up. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your honor.” Pietro replied, echoed by Watts.

“Good. Are the defense and prosecution ready?”

“We are your honor.”

Ozpin nodded. “Then, the trial of Qrow Branwen v. the Four Kingdoms has officially begun. The prosecution may begin their opening statement.”

Qrow took a deep breath as he watched the opposing lawyer get to his feet.

Here we go.

~

“-are usually upset and asking for me to help them.”

“How do your clients find this hidden parlor of yours?”

It was too easy.

That was the whisper prickling at the back of his head, as he orated how his clients located him. Pietro and Rhodes had coached him, prepared him on what to say for every question and how much to say. So, he’d been expecting the interrogation of his livelihood – his full name, when he started his work, what he made financially, the ways he kept himself off the grid, where he purchased his inks and needles, how he mixed it with his own scent, who he contacted when he needed a new dwelling to hole up in.

It was everything he’d been expecting, which meant something was wrong.

“I see, so everything was word of mouth. Yet, you claim your average clientele was about 4 people a week.” Watts was pacing, a hand running over his mustache.

Qrow tried not to follow his movements too much, nor look up at the council staring down at him as he sat in the center chair, feeling like a jester about to perform. “Yes.”

The lawyer hesitated, hovering almost thoughtfully, before turning to face him fully. “That’s quite a lot for an underground business, Mr. Branwen. Are you certain there isn’t something else you were offering your clients?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” He replied stiffly, the stifling vernacular feeling odd on his tongue.

“Then let me rephrase: Were you also having sexual transactions with your clients?”

His eyes blew wide, his temper rising into an explosive, “WHAT?!” That wasn’t quite drowned out by Rhodes extremely loud, “OBJECTION! What’s the relevance?”

“I just find it strange that the accused has held up a traveling business for twelve years now on underpaid work, yet kept up a steady stream of customers. Customers whom, may I remind the court, are already feeling emotionally vulnerable – as Mr. Branwen here himself has already attested to. As an outsider looking in, that raises some concerns.” Watts didn’t quite hide his smirk as he looked up at the council, and Qrow realized at that moment he’d gotten him. He had been trying to throw him off kilter, and it had worked.

“Abstained.” Leonardo said just as Theodore enthusiastically hollered, “Sustained!”

The Mistrialian shot his fellow councilman a frown. “What? Why?”

“I just want to see where this goes.” He looked a little too proud as he lent back in his chair. Qrow felt himself sinking in his own.

“This isn’t a courtroom drama, Theo. We can’t simply have people follow useless tracks of information simply to indulge ourselves.” The other said, sounding like a man whose patience was already wearing thin. “This has nothing to do with the crime the defendant is being tried for.”

Theodore rose a finger, tsking. “Isn’t it though? Mr. Branwen is on about a dozen counts of misconduct and malpractice. Who’s to say this isn’t relevant?”

“Well…” Leo started, then merely trailed off with a shake of his head, as if he’d lost the heart to fight.

For a split second, it seemed the motion from Vacuo would pull through – then James spoke up instead. “Be that as it may, there is no evidence to continue this inquisition.”

In all his years, Qrow never thought he’d want to thank Tin Man Jimmy, but right then he could have kissed him.

Then Watts had to open his mouth yet again, “I actually believe one very specific document we’ve submitted might in fact raise some concerns that not all of Mr. Branwen’s dealings were solely professional. But if it would please the court, I can rephrase again.”

What!?

As the council leaders mulled that over, Qrow sent a panicked glance back at his lawyers. The duo shared a look, before Rhodes made a quick hand gesture of twirling his index fingers around one another.

Roll with it.

How was he supposed to just-

“We’ll allow it, for now.” Ozpin decided, sealing his fate. “Proceed.”

Watts nodded before turning back to him, looking very much like a shark about to circle its’ prey. “Mr. Branwen, you’re an unbound alpha, correct?”

“Yes.” He answered, forcing down the growl that wanted to erupt.

“And as you’ve reported, every single one of your clients was an omega. It would not be unusual for a connection, of sorts, to come about. These things happen every single day after all.” Watts said, gesturing to the air as if love was equally plentiful. “So, my question is, did you ever develop feelings for any of them?”

His reply was short and clipped, “Of course not.”

“May I remind you Mr. Branwen, that you are under oath. Is what you just said completely true?”

For a split second, he hesitated. There was no way he could know.

…Right?

Yet, something about the glint in the beta’s eye told him to be wary, so this time when he repeated his defense, it was as unambiguous as possible, “I never developed any feelings for any of my clients while I was working with them.”

“I find that’s a very interesting claim to make.” Watts strode over to the far side table, where the evidence for the case had been laid out. His tattoo machine and inks were the most prominent pieces there, but the lawyer bypassed them, rifling through a stack of papers at the end of the table. When he returned to where Qrow was sitting, he was holding just one sheet. “I have here a log of all visits made to you during your stay at the prison. I’d like you to read a few of them for me.”

Oh fuck.

“Let’s start with November 30th, shall we?”

Mouth dry, Qrow weakly said, “Pietro Polendina and Rhodes Dium.”

“Your lawyers, of course. And December 6th?”

He almost felt detached from his own body as he obediently read it off, “Taiyang Xiao Long, Yang Xiao Long and Ruby Rose.”

“The clearance level for these three lists them as family.” The beta glanced up towards the court to clarify. “Records show that Taiyang and Mr. Branwen’s twin sister Raven are the sires for Yang Xiao Long. Now…”

Qrow braced himself as Watts looked down on him once more.

“What about November 27th?”

He blinked, so baffled he gave an audible, “Huh?”

“November 27th, right up here Mr. Branwen. What does it say?”

His gaze followed where the other was pointing. “Clover Ebi?”

In the corner of his eye, he noticed how James sat up a little straighter, a hint of metallic musk filling the room, but most of his focus stayed on Watts. He couldn’t actually be thinking that he… and Clover…

Yet, sure enough, the beta pulled the page away and said, “Now why would the Captain of the Atlas Ace Ops be visiting you?”

Qrow couldn’t quite fight the smile on his face and for the first time since the trial had started, he felt himself relax. He knew Clover was down the hall, probably laughing his head off as he waited for his turn to take the stand.  

“Something humorous, Mr. Branwen?”

He settled back. “Of you thinking Clover and I are getting it on under the sheets? Yeah, that’s hilarious.” He heard more than one barely contained chuckle from around him – and Theodore didn’t even try. “Clover’s a former client and a friend. When he found out I got into a bind, he came by to help me out. There’s nothing more to our relationship beyond that.”

Again, even as his attention stayed mostly on the beta, Qrow noticed the Atlas leader lowering his hackles.

How odd.

Watts was glaring at him now, but Qrow didn’t balk, waiting for the other’s next move. The last thing he was expecting was what followed, “I have no further questions.” Before heading back to the prosecution desk.

Even Rhodes seemed confused as he was motioned over for the cross examination. Yet, as they met eyes, a silent agreement passed between them not to falter as they got ready to read their lines.

~

“And how old were you when you lost Eris Branwen?”

“Thirteen.”

It was the sob story of the ages.

At least, that’s what it was meant to sound like. Yet, as Qrow spun the tragedy of his childhood, he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed, using his mother’s name to try and sway the court.

Rhodes hummed, as if he were thinking it over, even though he already had the next question ready to go. “Would you say it was her passing that eventually inspired you to start your work?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t enough to simply speak it, he had to perform too. So, he kept his head angled down, playing it up like the loss was still affecting him terribly.

Purgatory. That was probably where he was going when he died. If not, then something worse. Some place with fire and pitchforks.

“What did you hope to accomplish?”

He clenched his fists, the ferocity in his tone no act, “At first, I was just kind of down on my luck and trying to make a quick buck. I had the drawing skills so I thought, why not? I could give omegas another way to get rid of their brands without them having to carve out their own skin, and make a little money on the side until I could find something more stable. But the more involved I got, the more I felt I couldn’t just walk away from this. I realized I was giving them something they desperately needed – a way to take back their lives.”

Qrow looked up, meeting eyes with each of the kingdom’s leaders as he spoke, “Every omega who has to go to a reformatory is branded. It doesn’t matter what reason they’re there. They could be considered too outspoken. They could have just lost a mate. They could be sick like my mom! And part of their bullshit recovery is to scar them? They don’t get a choice of anything – not the word, not the placement, not even that it happens.” He gestured a bit wildly, voice rising an octave. “They’re treated more like property then people! And while this is happening to thousands of omegas every year, too many of us look the other way. But after my clients started sharing their stories, their pain with me, I refused to look away anymore. So I decided to dedicate my life to my work.”

“Even knowing that one day, you’d probably end up in the courtroom?” Rhodes asked, voice soft in the wake of Qrow’s intensity.

“Yes.” He replied firmly. “I’d go to jail a thousand times over if it meant making the difference for just one person.”

“And how do you know that it does?”

Internally, he felt himself ease, knowing this was the last question. “Because they keep finding me. No one would keep telling others where I am if they didn’t think I���d helped them.”

Rhodes nodded, taking that in, before he moved to dismiss him, “Then Mr. Branwen, I only have one final question.”

Wait, that wasn’t the plan!

Qrow tensed as the beta continued, “You’ve already attested with the prosecution that your relationships with your clients were always kept either on a professional or platonic level. Is there a particular reason why?”

He took note of the way the lawyer shot a meaningful glance towards Watts’ table, and it clicked. Right, Clover’s testimony went after his – there was no doubt the opposing lawyer was going to try poking holes in his own story by grilling the omega. This was his last chance to strengthen his own case.

He could have said anything, really, but what Qrow decided on was the truth, “Because I was already in love with someone well before the day I started my first tattoo.” His lips quirked up, the smile small but eternally fond, “He never felt the same, but I already know no one is ever going to take his place in my heart.”

What must Tai be thinking, watching this from home?

Heh, he probably thought he was pathetic.

If Rhodes was surprised by this revelation, he didn’t show it. “Thank you, Mr. Branwen. I have no further questions. You can return to your seat now.”

As he stood, Qrow couldn’t help but glance back up at the leaders, trying to gauge their reactions. Theo was nodding to something his most trusted righthand, Xanthe Rumpole, was whispering in his ear, their expressions a bit tight. James seemed lost in thought, rapping his knuckles along the desk in front of him. Leo kept mussing up his mane of hair, frown pronounced. As for Ozpin, he was a complete enigma. Expression hidden behind the hands crossed in front of him and eyes concealed in the glint of his glasses, it was impossible to say what he was feeling.

It was even more impossible to say whether any of it was positive or not.

He slumped back into his seat, accepting the pat from Pietro and whispered, “You did good my boy.”

“Sure hope so.” He murmured back. It was a relief to be done – but the trial had only just begun.

Across the room, Watts stood to call on the first witness.

~

“Name and occupation.”

“Clover Ebi. I’m the Captain of the Ace Ops.” The announcement was almost unneeded, as the omega had come dressed in full uniform, all his merits in plain view. He was even standing at parade rest, rather than taking the seat offered. But the most obstruse item of all was the mark on his arm – normally covered by a bandanna, the tattoo on the lower part of his bicep was in plain view. It was a simple rewrite of Ebi, now in brilliant green ink, with a trail of linked shamrocks branching off from the end of the I and circling around his arm to meet back at the E.

Watts’ eyes narrowed as he regarded him before turning to the council, eyeing Atlas’ side. “Before I go further, perhaps it would be wise to address the obvious conflict of interest here.”

“Objection.” Pietro called. “Arthur, we cleared this prior to coming here. If this was a concern, it should have been brought up then.”

“A slip of judgment on my part, clearly. It does not change the fact that the person who appointed the good captain here to that position is currently sitting as an acting judge right now.”

James crossed his arms over the table, leaning forward. “If it would ease any concerns, I could certainly testify as well.”

“Ah, not to correct you your honor, but the proper ethical thing to do is to disqualify yourself.” Watts said, running his index and thumb over his mustache. Qrow almost expected him to start twirling the ends of it.

This wasn’t good though. James had two votes on the Atlas council – if he was taken out of the equation, it would be nearly impossible to win Atlas’ judgment.

Underneath the table, Qrow’s foot started to bounce nervously.

Next to him, Rhodes lent in, murmuring, “It’s okay, we were expecting this to happen.”

Sure enough, Pietro cleared his throat, clarifying in a way that almost sound practiced, “I think the proper term in this instance is ‘excuse’, as he should only need to be absent for the proceeding he may be biased against. General Ironwood would clearly be welcome to return once Captain Ebi’s testimony is finished. If that is how the court wishes to proceed of course.”

There were some whispers from above, but it was Leo who spoke first, “It would probably be for the best James.”

“Ha! Yeah, he is your golden pup after all.” Theo joked boisterously.

James shot the Vacuon a disapproving glance, “Must you be so crude?” He turned to the man across from him. “Oz?”

“I have to agree.” He decided. “Your judgment is generally sound, but the connection is undeniable. Stepping down for now is the right call.”

“Very well. Feel free to come get me once this portion is complete.” The general stood.

Almost automatically, Clover saluted him. “Sir.”

In the wake of his departure, Qrow could hear the reporters jabbering on excitedly from the back. Faintly he could pick out one of them saying, “There’s no telling how Atlas’ judgment will go with the head of the council being excused during their most critical witness.”

It filled him with dread – but between Rhodes and Pietro, neither of them looked even slightly unfettered.

“The prosecution may continue.” Leo allowed.

“Thank you, your honor.”

~

Round and round the questioning went again. Back in parade rest, Clover answered everything with a decisive and steady demeanor. Most of it was the typical stuff – when had he first heard about Qrow, how did he locate him, how much did it cost him to have the work done.

Eventually, the dreaded one came: “During your dealing with the defendant, did he ever show any inappropriate behavior towards you?”

“No. He was very professional and respectful of my personal space.” Clover reported.

Watts rocked back a bit on his heels. “But unlike most of Mr. Branwen’s clients, you happened to keep in touch with him?”

“Not exactly. I left Qrow my contact information in case he ever got into trouble and needed help. He only utilized it a few times over the years.”

“Is that how you ended up visiting the defendant on November 27th? He called you?”

Clover shook his head. “No. Qrow was never allowed to make a phone call.”

“That means you would have had to of located him on your own.”

“Yes.”

“I apologize but I don’t seem to understand.” Watts held out his hand, as if gesturing for the other to throw him a bone. “You’re telling me that for the most part, your relationship ended after the transaction. Yet, when Mr. Branwen was arrested, you voluntarily chose to locate him?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you go through such a hassle for someone you’ve met all of once and talked to only a handful of times?”

Clover shifted his head, just enough to spare Qrow a glance over his shoulder, before he faced forward once more. “Everyone needs someone in their court when they need help. Qrow had sacrificed a multitude of things to be in ours. I wanted to be in his if there ever came a time he needed it.”

“So it was merely obligation.”

“No.” Every without seeing his face, Qrow could hear the smile in the omega’s voice, “I’d like to think we’re friends.”

Watts didn’t seem moved by this show of comradery. “Are you absolutely certain Captain Ebi that there is not more to your feelings then that?”

“I’m positive. But if you need proof,” Clover posture relaxed so he could reach up, pulling down his collar in a way that was almost obscene. “I can assure you I did not get this from Qrow.”

Watts stared, then hissed between grit teeth, “I have no further questions.”

As he stepped away, the council went alive with noise as did the reporters. Qrow could already hear tomorrow’s headlines.

Ace-Ops Captain, Bonded?!

He swallowed down the guilt as he imagined the heckling the omega was likely to get upon returning to work. While he only knew the rough basics of military culture, he absolutely knew how much shit omegas got if they were discovered to be in any sort of relationship. The few retired ones he’d worked with over the years all generally held the same belief that joining the service not only meant signing away their life but also their right to finding a mate.

If that weren’t bad enough, Clover would also have to deal with Jam-

Qrow could practically hear the flip switching the light on, his eyes going wide.

No fucking way.

He glanced over at Rhodes as the man got to his feet to start his cross-examination, giving him an assured smile as he went. To his left, Pietro just seemed pleased, like things had gone exactly the way they’d planned. Had this been why they hadn’t been worried when James got tossed out? Because the mere presence of his own mate would have a sway on him?

That was either ridiculously brilliant or needlessly risky. No wonder they were the perfect lawyers for him.

~

Like a major gearing up to grill down a new recruit, Rhodes paced back and forth across the floor as he spoke, “Captain Ebi, you claimed Qrow was not given a phone call when he was imprisoned. Do you have proof of this statement?”

“Beyond Qrow’s word, no.” Clover admitted. Unlike Qrow, who was following his lawyer’s movements, the soldier was perfectly disciplined, staring straight ahead.

“Then, what makes you so certain he’s telling the truth?”

Before he could reply, Watts interjected, “Objection, that answer would be an opinion not a fact.”

“I’ll retract it then.” Rhodes conceded. “Captain, were there any other issues with my client’s legal rights that you’re aware of?”

Clover nodded once. “He wasn’t in the public system. Everyone incarcerated should be listed there, but I had to use my military clearance to locate him instead.”

“And how-”

Obnoxiously, Watts cleared his throat. Qrow couldn’t help but shoot the other man a glare – though the lawyer hardly seemed to notice as he drawled, “As fascinating as this all is, that’s prejudicial evidence and has very little to do with the crime the defendant is being tried for. If Mr. Branwen wishes to file for improper due process, he can handle that in Atlas’ civil courts.”

“Sustained. Mr. Dium, I suggest moving on.” Oz decided.

“Yes, your honor.”

It wasn’t a surprising outcome; truthfully, they’d both told Qrow it would likely get tossed out before they really took off running with it – especially after they discovered who the prosecutor was. Regardless, they’d agreed to keep it in to hopefully drum up more sympathy in the council. With so little said, it was hard to say if it would make an impact at all.

Hardly shaken, Rhodes barreled on. “Captain Ebi, you attested before that omegas in the military are branded with their last name. When does this procedure occur?”

“During the first week of recruitment training.” Clover reported.

“Do you get to choose where that mark goes?”

“No.”

“And alphas and betas are exempt from this?”

“Yes. Only omegas have to go to the brander.”

“I see.” The lawyer paced over to stand before him. “Did any of your commanding officers ever explain this discrepancy?”

Though Clover remained steady, Qrow could see the way his hands clenched a little tighter where they were crossed behind his back. “My sergeant at the time had said that when we signed up, we signed away everything to our Kingdom, including our bodies. Since omegas can’t control their scents or how distracting they might be to the other alphas in service, the tattooing was a way to alter that smell so it would be less desirable.”

“Now, perhaps this is merely because I’m a beta,” Rhodes waved a hand to himself as he said this, “But I always believed alphas had just as strong of a scent. Are you saying theirs wasn’t distracting to you on the field?”

The soldier shook his head in response. “No, they were. A few omegas were even known to freeze if an alpha’s scent was particularly overtaking in the moment.”

Though his eyes were trained on the two of them, in the corner of his eye Qrow noticed the furtive looks Sleet and Camilla – two of Atlas’ council – were sharing. Yet, it was anyone’s guess if their concerns came from the obvious discriminations or from allowing omegas to enlist at all.

“Did no one notice that issue?” Rhodes asked, beginning to pace again.

“They did – but our drill sergeants would only lay in on the recruit for losing their nerve.” Clover explained.

“During your time at the training camp, did anyone ever claim they had frozen up from an alpha’s scent?”

“No. Everyone was too afraid too. I spoke up once though when one of my buddies was getting reamed for it.”

“And what happened when you did that?”

“I was told to drop until I dropped.” At Rhodes’ arched brow, Clover clarified, “Meaning I was forced to do physical exercise until I was close to passing out. It was a common punishment for extreme insubordination.”

Qrow had heard this story before – it had been one the younger had shared with him while under the needle. That was how he knew just how much Clover was glossing over. Like how his drill sergeant at the time was also an alpha, and when she started shouting at the recruit in question, the shock of another alpha’s hormones so soon after the first only caused them to freeze up more. Or how the screaming had gone on for nearly ten minutes before Clover had stepped in. That during the duration of his punishment, the omega was constantly forced to push his limits every time he fell down from exhaustion, because his sergeant would threaten him with being kicked out if he didn’t get up.

It was from that, that Qrow finally understood why Clover had wanted the rebrand so badly.

Either Rhodes had already also noticed the inequity or had planned out his questions, because his next was: “Was anyone else given the same treatment for speaking out of turn?”

“No.” Clover’s tone didn’t quite hide his annoyance. “The only other time I saw someone go through it was for someone who tried to smuggle beer out of the kitchen.”

“Would you say this experience was what led you to eventually find my client and ask for his assistance?” Rhodes had stopped again, facing him once more.

“Yes; when I was appointed Captain, I felt a responsibility to my fellow omegas to take a stand against the inequalities we face in the military. Rebranding was the most visual way I felt I could do that.”

“Yet, until this day, no one publicly knew about your rebranding. Is there a reason for this?”

He hesitated, before continuing bravely, “My significant other convinced me not to. He said that I was already rocking the boat and if I rocked any harder then I’d capsize it. I took his advice to heart and committed myself to waiting.”

“And what were you waiting for?”

For the first time, Clover dared to break posture, looking up at the council as he declared, “A day in which I could tell my story and know people were finally listening.”

A brief but powerful hush fell across the court.

Rhodes let it hold a few seconds more, before finally saying, “Thank you Captain Ebi. I have no further questions. You may step down.”

~

There was no denying that something had changed in the court. The air had become tense and heavy.

It only seemed to grow as Maria took the stand next. To appear less threatening, Pietro took over the questioning when it came time for the cross examination. That way it seemed kinder as his questions unraveled bits and pieces of Maria’s past as a trafficked omega when she was only thirteen. Hearing it the second time through was no less easy then the first, and Qrow had to lower his head to hide his shining eyes. Simultaneously, Theo’s jokes seemed to disappear, his expression having hardened to something grave as he listened to one of his own people’s cruel upbringing.

“In my time, there was no way to take a stand against the things that happened to us.” Maria pointed her cane towards Qrow. “Having that whippersnapper over there redo my mark was my way of fighting back after all these years. The atrocities of my generation are thankfully long gone; but it’s clear to me there’s still much to be done with this one.”

After her, was Robyn. Needing no coddling, Rhodes stood at the forefront once more – but he hardly had to ask questions to get the woman to talk. She hadn’t taken the position of the Omega Alliance’s leader by being quiet after all.

That’s perhaps why it seemed to boom across the walls as she pointed up at the council, “With all due respect to the court, not a single person on any of the four councils is an omega! Who speaks for us? Our rights are decided by those who don’t know what it’s like to live oppressed. That’s why the Alliance protected Qrow – because when you’re oppressed or even simply supporting the oppressed, the rest of the world is quick to try and silence you.”

By the time Rhodes was dismissing her and taking his seat once more, he seemed a bit overwhelmed. “Miss Hill is quite the spitfire, isn’t she?”

“That she is. I think even our council was a bit overcome, seeing her in person.” Pietro’s laugh was hearty.

Qrow couldn’t fight the faint smile, though his nerves quickly took it away. There was only one witness left and then it was judgment time. The hours they had been at this suddenly seemed too short. “So, only Vernal left?” He asked needlessly, wincing when his voice cracked.

“Well, actually-”

Pietro never got to finish as Watts stood up and said, “I’d like to call the final witness, Taiyang Xiao Long, to the stand.”

There was no conscious thought.

He stood up, fast enough his chair tipped over, snarling angrily at the other lawyer, “WHAT?!”

In the next second, Rhodes was pulling him down by his arm, getting to his feet and saying rapidly, “Ah, can the defense have a quick recess first please?”

“I see no reason for that. We’re almost at the end and the UFK’s time is very valuable.” Watts interjected, smirking like things were finally going his way. “We can simply excuse Mr. Branwen if he can’t control himself.”

Fuck everything. He was going to go punch him in the face.

“Now, now, let’s all just calm down. It’s been a very long day and I’m sure all of us could use a breather.” Oz held a hand out towards their table, as if offering them a bone. “Fifteen minutes for the defense.”

They made it out the door in one.

The little sitting room he was brought to by a guard was entirely ignored as he whirled on his lawyers, voice rising, “How could you do this to him?!”

“Now Qrow-”

“Don’t!” He growled, not that it had any effect on the betas. “Denounce him as a witness! I am not going to allow you all to humiliate my best friend in front of the whole world!”

“We can’t do that. The only way Taiyang can be dismissed at this point is if he refuses to testify.” Pietro explained.

“Oh fucking perfect! This is just...!” Qrow threw up his hands, storming to the other side of the room. It was only the fact that the armchairs looked more expensive than his childhood house that prevented him from kicking any of them.

He picked up a forgotten notepad from one of the tables, tearing the pages to pieces instead.

Pietro rolled up beside him. “We didn’t seek him out. He volunteered to testify.”

“And you let him?!” Riiip. “You’re so smart, but you couldn’t figure out why I didn’t want him to be a part of this?”

“We know you’re hopelessly in love with him.”

It was a good thing magic didn’t exist – otherwise the glare he sent to Rhodes might have melted him on the spot.

Pietro hastily intervened, “What my associate means to say is, we understand your feelings have led you to be… less than objective on this matter.”

He couldn’t turn his imaginary superpower on the old man even if he tried, so he just went back to his quiet destruction.

“But the fact of the matter is, no one made this choice but Taiyang. For the same reason I imagine you made yours, my boy.” He gave him a comforting pat. “He wanted to protect you.”

Qrow paused halfway through a sheet. But after a beat, he scowled, tearing the rest. “Of course he does, that’s just… him! He’s not thinking it through. If this goes badly, he’ll never be able to get away from being part of this case. Someone will always remember. I don’t want him to live with that shame.”

“You know, I sat down with all the potential witnesses.” Rhodes began gently, “Most of them had another agenda, coming here. Good ones, of course, but still. Everyone else we considered were all preoccupied with making a statement. Taiyang was the only one who came here solely for you.” He came over, standing on his other side. “I don’t think the repercussions matter, even if he hasn’t considered them. Because to him you’re worth the risk.”

His old friend, Déjà Vu, nettled at the back of his head. Why did that sound so familiar?

Pietro added, “I think we all also agree you certainly shouldn’t go rotting away in a prison either. So, trust us all a little bit longer. We’ll see this through.”

“Can’t cry ‘till it’s all over, right?”  Qrow grumbled, the ripping finally stopped.

“That’s how it goes. Chin up, my boy. We got a case to win.”

~

It was certain. After today, wherever Qrow was going after he died, a section would be reserved solely for him.

Because he seriously could not be marveling just how wonderful Tai looked in a suit as he walked into the room. He even shot Qrow his ever-radiant smile as he made his way between the tables, taking his seat in the chair still set in the center of the room.

Leo lent forward. “Young man, do you swear that everything you are about to say will be nothing but the truth?”

“I do.” Tai said, placing a hand to his heart.

“The prosecution may proceed.”

Watts stood. “Thank you, your honor.” He was already spitting out his first question as he crossed over. “Please state your name and occupation for the court.”

“Taiyang Xiao Long. I’m an 8th grade teacher at Signal Academy.”

“Mr. Xiao Long, how did you come to know the defendant?”

Tai lent back in the chair, crossing his ankle over his knee as if he was about to have a casual conversation with the other man. “We grew up a few houses down from each other. Both our parents were of Mistrialian descent and Qrow’s family had recently moved to Patch. My mother felt it was important we got to know them and make them feel welcome. The rest is history.”

“What age were you?” Watts plucked at his mustache. Every time he did, Qrow couldn’t help but think the other was scheming up something.

“It was right before 1st grade started, so I was five, almost six. And Qrow was already six.”

“That’s quite a long time. And what would you consider your relationship with Qrow to be?”

“We’re best friends.”

Watts arched one fine eyebrow. “Not brother-in-laws? After all, the record shows Yang is his biological niece.”

“Uh, well,” The omega rubbed the back of his neck. “Raven and I never married. So, we’re not legally related.”

“I see.” Was the reply, something methodical behind the way the elder let the words drawl out slowly. Stalling as he thought. “But you two have remained close all these years?”

“I mean, we’ve had our ups and downs like any other friendship and his work tends to keep him distant.” Tai lent back, his next statement confident and sincere, “But yes, Qrow is my closest and most trusted friend.”

Though Qrow already knew that truth, the sentiment still made his chest warm brilliantly.

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t have a chance to settle, because Watts chose now to take the shot.

“So then surely you noticed when Qrow’s fascination with omegas first started?”

Tai spluttered. “P-Pardon?”

“Hmm, so that’s how he’s playing it.” Qrow barely caught Pietro’s murmur under the crack of Rhodes’ hand smacking the table.

“Objection! Arthur that’s a leading question.”

The other lawyer gave a shrug, as if it didn’t truly matter. “So it is. I retract it.”

Had he done that on purpose? Nails scratching across the table, Qrow barely withheld a scowl as he started to figure it out as well. Watts was trying to give the idea he was obsessed. It didn’t matter that the question was getting tossed aside; just the implication he wasn’t fully mentally sound would stand out.

He breathed out slow, trying to reign in the anxiety.

It was fine. They still had to do the cross examination – which would be the chance to do some damage control.

“Am I still allowed to answer it?”

The entire court’s attention snapped to Tai, shocked and bewildered.

A beat, then suddenly the reporters were in a frenzy while Qrow desperately tried not to tear out his own hair.

Tai what are you doing!?

Even Watts wasn’t completely unfazed, having to clear his throat first. “Uh, yes, well... I suppose that is up to the court.”

“If he wants to, why not let him?” Predictably, that was Theo.

James sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Because it can lead to unsustainable evidence. Really Theo, have you ever sat in on a real court hearing before?”

“Nope!”

Qrow was beginning to think the only way he was winning Vacuo’s majority was by entertaining them enough.

From the opposite side of the bench, Oz sipped from his mug (when had that appeared?) as he peered down at Taiyang. “Do you believe what you have to say is important to this case?”

“I do, your honor.” Tai sounded so certain. What in Brothers’ names was he up to?

“Then let’s hear it.”

He nodded, facing the prosecutor once more. “The reason Qrow has such an interest in omegas is because he used to be one.”

Oh boy. Qrow sunk a bit in his seat, practically feeling the cameras turning towards him.

For the second time in ten minutes, the court went into a frenzy – bad enough that Leo had to call for order to quiet everyone down.

Watts was staring at Tai like one would a countryside bumpkin. “As fantastical as that claim is Mr. Xiao Long, biology does not work that way. Qrow was born an alpha, therefore he is an alpha.”

“Yes, he is, but he wasn’t raised like one. Qrow’s parents were convinced he would be an omega, so they groomed him to be one. He went to omega-based primordial classes. He could sew by the time he was nine and he was cooking with his mom a few months before she passed away. And that doesn’t even begin to cover all the socialization differences.” Tai uncrossed his legs, leaning forward. “Just because Qrow presented otherwise doesn’t take away from the fact that for thirteen years, he was an omega. So of course he feels a connection with the dynamic he was once a part of.”

“That’s a bold claim to make, but I’m afraid you don’t have the psychological expertise to back it.”

“Perhaps, but I do have personal experience.”

“As a teacher, you mean?”

“No.” Qrow didn’t have to see it to know Tai’s smile was smug. “As someone who lived his first fourteen years as an alpha.”

That got the court going again, though more contained this time around.

Watts seemed to be at the end of his rope with this clown show, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

It was a small, but significant, victory.

~

“So, you’ve never sat in on any of Mr. Branwen’s tattooing sessions with another client?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“I had no reason too. Not only would it be invasive for the omega having the work done, I’d seen and experienced first-hand how careful Qrow was with his work.”

“How can you be certain he wasn’t just treating you, his closest companion, as an exception?”

“I suppose he did in some ways. Like not minding our eight-to-ten-hour sessions for weeks on end. But as far as his work ethic goes, when I found him, he was thin as a stick because he was sacrificing his grocery budget just to make sure he had all the needles and antiseptics he needed in stock.”

The questioning had been going on for nearly forty-five minutes.

At first, he assumed Watts was just continually trying to dig through his history via Tai, hoping to find something incriminating to prove Qrow was, in fact, a spawn born from the deepest pits of darkness. While that was certainly somewhat true – such as spinning his introverted habits into something more sinister (“Did Mr. Branwen ever have other instances in which he had issue working with others?”) – it didn’t seem the lawyer’s primary goal. The realization of what was creeped up on him as he noticed Glynda hide a yawn behind her hand and Lil’ Miss check her watch.

“He’s stalling.” He hissed.

“Yes.” Pietro was equally displeased. “It’s one of his favorite tactics. He knows the more time he takes, the less we have. I figured he might do this right at the end.”

“Can’t you do anything?”

He rubbed a hand under his chin thoughtfully. “In a normal court, no… but perhaps in this one…”

“We’ll give it a shot.” Rhodes agreed, getting to his feet. “Objection! Arthur, you’ve been at this for quite some time. Is this line of questioning going anywhere?”

The other lawyer waved to Tai, “I merely wish to delve into as much of the defendant’s history as possible, seeing as Mr. Xiao Long here is our only character witness.”

“But wasn’t it also you who said the UFK’s time was valuable?”

“Are you accusing me of wasting time Dium? That’s not a true objection.”

From further above, James asserted, “As it is, I’m thinking to sustain it regardless. I’ve heard about as much of Mr. Branwen’s teenage escapades as I care to hear.”

As the conversation went on above them, Qrow couldn’t help but notice the way Tai fell back some in his seat, a line of exhaustion weighing his shoulders. It seemed Watts’ tactic hadn’t just affected the court. The omega had been very careful the entire time, never giving too much with any answer and, if he could, trying to keep things in a positive light.

He imagined since his best friend was trying to hold up one of the most cynical bastards he’d ever known, his arms had to be getting tired.

“Stop that. You’re not a joke, you know?”

The echoing words chiding him left his lips quirking upwards.

Heh. Right. When was he going to learn to stop underestimating the other man? Tai wasn’t here simply to get him out of trouble; he was here because he believed in Qrow. Not just what he represented, or the work he did, but him at his core. If anything, Qrow was the one being the real fool, not even humoring the idea that very little of what Tai had said so far even stretched the truth.  

That maybe, just maybe, Tai truly did regard him that highly.

Gods, He thought fondly, What did I ever do to deserve you?

As if he could feel Qrow’s stare, Tai glanced back. Though it was hard to tell from this distance, he seemed almost nervous.

Despite knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to make it out, Qrow mouthed as precisely as he could, ‘You’re doing great!’

Something must had translated, because Tai grinned.

“-Four more questions, understood?” Leo was saying, tuning them back into the trial.

“Understood your honor.” Watts replied. There was something almost deadly in his eyes as he faced Tai once more, like he was staring down a dueling opponent and he was best trying to figure how to win the draw. “Mr. Xiao Long, we’ve been speaking of the defendant’s purchase history for some time now, but there’s one in particular I would like you to look at with me.” Much like he had with Qrow, the lawyer picked up some documents from the evidence table, bringing them over. “As the court is already well aware, alphas and omegas are both required to be registered with the pharmacy, so that suppressant usage can be documented and properly distributed.” He stopped in front of Tai. “This is from six years ago, during the same months you happened to have testified you were within contact with him in Argus.”

Qrow sat up, ramrod straight as a stone dropped into his gut. Fuck.

“Will you read for the court the purchase made on July 27th and then the one made on August 12th, including the amounts and prescription length?”

Tai seemed confused, even as he complied, “Moschidor, 200mg, thirty-day use. $28.50. Odocoilus, 300mg, fifteen-day use. $53.66.”

“So, let me clarify what occurred here.” Watts said, gesturing with the papers to the court, “The defendant was on Moshidor, one of the cheaper suppressants on the market, but known for its general effectiveness for every day use. However, before the defendant’s prescription was even close to being finished, he was purchasing Odocoilus, a much more expensive and aggressive suppressant. We’ve also already covered that the defendant’s budget constraints hardly allowed for such lavish spending. Which only leads me to believe that he was in a position in which he had to make this purchase.” He spun back to Tai and took the shot, “So the question is Mr. Xiao Long, do you happen to know if some sort of incident occurred to spark this change?”

At a loss for words, the omega just spluttered. “I, well, uh…”

“Please answer the question Mr. Xiao Long.” He pressured.

Tai shifted uncomfortably, ducking his head. “He… had a spontaneous rut.”

Qrow’s nails dug into the grain of the table, hearing the too-loud whispers of the reporters start up.

“Well now isn’t that fascinating.” Watts exclaimed, looking much like a man who had just discovered a gold mine. “Spontaneous ruts are most often caused by the presence of a potential mate. It wouldn’t be an unforeseen happenstance, being around as many omegas as he was. But then, that doesn’t line up with Mr. Branwen’s declaration of holding a candle for someone well before his tattooing days, now does it?”

In the brief hush, Qrow worked out the options. Tai could lie, of course. Could say he just missed a few doses – but then Watts would string that along to make him seem irresponsible and intentionally hazardous. Or, maybe he could convince everyone the suppressants just stopped working because his body became too accumulated to his current prescription. It would work, if only it couldn’t be easily countered by the fact that effectiveness goes down overtime, and other rut-like symptoms would have popped up months prior to the full cycle.

It was with a sinking feeling he realized there was only one ‘good’ answer to that question.

A flush was working its way up Tai’s neck, pinkening his ears, as he no doubt came to the same conclusion. “It does, actually. Because…” His whole back rolled with the breath he took before raising his head, “I’m that person.”

Yet again, an explosion of noise overtook the court.

Qrow shut his eyes, as if he could shut it all out. The little victory they had gotten earlier on in the testimony felt like a consolation prize to the defeat they were facing now. Even with only two questions left, Watts had a dozen little ways he could twist that information and the precious seconds it took the leaders to call for order only gave him more time to figure out exactly how to best ruin the most beautiful thing in Qrow’s life.

Ruin it he clearly wanted too, what with the way Watts steepled his fingers together and smiled menacingly as he waited patiently for order to be restored before speaking, “Mr. Xiao Long, I’m afraid I feel like I’m missing a few pieces here. Your statement implies you triggered Mr. Branwen’s rut. However, spontaneous ruts don’t come about from a mere crush. Otherwise, we’d have every teenager in the world out of school every other week. Mr. Branwen had to be in a situation in which he felt you could become his mate for a rut to happen in this manner. So, what occurred between you two to create this chain reaction?”

“We… spent the night together. Platonically!” Tai stressed quickly. “It was my birthday and we’d had a few glasses of wine together. He invited me to stay over for the night. Nothing else happened.” A pause, then Tai added in rashly, “We’d done it a million times before so I didn’t think anything of it. I hadn’t known Qrow had had any feelings for me at the time, otherwise I wouldn’t have stayed.”

Qrow grimaced and hunkered down, already knowing what was about to be said.

Sure enough, Watts grabbed the lead in like he’d just fished his best catch of the day, “I find that very curious of you to say. Because Qrow’s already attested to the fact you never returned his feelings – but he failed to say when you rejected him. Now from this account, it seems to me he manipulated you into a hazardous situation, using your ignorance to his potential gain.”

Fury burnt in his gut, angry tears brimming. That wasn’t what happened! He’d never… could never have lived with himself, if he’d hurt Tai like that. How was it right that someone could mock his love this way? Make it seem like a sham.

Yet just as it felt like all he could do was sit here helplessly as the one thing he’d held most dear fell apart for all to witness, Tai stood up for him, chair scraping back, voice near explosive all on its own, “No! That’s not the truth!”

Watts merely arched a brow at the emotional display, and rather than calling him out for the outburst only egged him on further with his final question, “Then what is the truth, Mr. Xiao Long?”

“The truth is it was my fault!”

Oh Tai… Qrow shook his head, willing him not to take the fall for him but unable to stop him as he bravely carried on.

He expected some outlandish lie to protect him.

Some sort of tall tale that he’d conjured up to push the blame off of himself so that Tai looked like the guilty party in all this.

What he didn’t expect – the last thing he’d ever expect in the entire world – was what Tai said next.

“Qrow’s rut didn’t trigger because of his feelings, they triggered because of mine!”

WHAT?!

….W…What?

Even as the press stirred up behind him and the council bore down from above, Tai didn’t halt, tone trembling on the words, “I had started falling for him when we met up again. But I was too much of a coward to tell him, because the last time I had, my entire life was upended!” He pointed frenziedly towards James’ section. “I got shipped off to Atlas and my daughters ripped away from me! Years I’ll never get back, because I had dared fall in love a second time. I couldn’t stand the thought of it happening again, so I… I never told Qrow.” His arm fell and, with it, his ferocity.

Qrow didn’t need to see him to know he was crying.

“Not that it would have mattered. Qrow was already staying away as much as possible to keep me and my girls out of this. Telling him, when we couldn’t be together, would have been cruel.” Tai hung his head, ending softly, “I loved him too much to break his heart that way.”

The irony was, he certainly didn’t feel that was even possible, with how full his heart suddenly was. He wanted to cry. He wanted climb the tallest mountain in the world and shout his happiness until it echoed into the canyons. But more than anything, he wanted to jump up and take Tai into his arms and never, ever let him go.

Watts cleared his throat, reminding him where he was and that his life was on the cusp of being nothing but three stone walls and a door with bars. “I suppose… I have no further questions.” He walked back to his table, only stopping long enough to gripe, “And take your seat, Mr. Xiao Long.”

As Tai sat back down, Ozpin lent forward, surprisingly kind as he offered, “Would the witness like a moment, before we continue?”

“No.” He snuffled, running a hand over his eyes. “I’m okay. I apologize for the display.”

The leader only nodded, “Very well. The defense may proceed.”

Pietro gave Qrow a firm pat on the back, “Hang in there, my boy.” Before making his way to the evidence table. He picked up a paperback book and, strangely, a measuring tape, before rolling himself over to Tai. “I promise to be brief, Mr. Xiao Long. Now, you said it took about six months for my client to finish rebranding your mark, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And during those six months, you met every Sunday for up to ten hours a day, correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And where is your brand?”

“It’s on my back.” Tai made a vague motion towards the area. “Across my shoulder blades.”

“I see. So, it’s not in plain view. Would you please remove your shirt to show the court?”

That had Watts snapping, “Objection! We’ve seen Qrow’s work on the other witnesses. We don’t need to disgrace Mr. Xiao Long in such a manner.”

“I do promise that I am going somewhere with this.” Pietro told the court. “Mr. Xiao Long’s time with Mr. Branwen was significantly longer than any other witness or potential witness we encountered, but I believe seeing it will only truly express why.”

The four leaders glanced at one another, before James tipped his head, “We’ll allow it. Mr. Xiao Long, if you would.”

Tai got to back to his feet, turning around. His fingers fumbled a bit over the buttons of his shirt as his eyes met Qrow’s, a confliction of feelings playing across his face. Qrow couldn’t help but feel a storm well within him. There was so much he wanted to say and to make up for. But all they could have right now were their gazes on one another, the longing between them almost tangible.

Tai shrugged out of his shirt, the fabric falling to the floor.

A ring of gasps could be heard from some of the councilmembers.

Qrow didn’t need to see it to know why, remembering every line he’d etched like it had been just yesterday.

He could almost feel his hand moving once more, his outline detailing the S into an 8 – Tai’s birthdate. Within the top and bottom circles, the colors of dawn and dusk bloomed anew along the beaches of Patch. Both the upper and lower half were drawn out symmetrically so they mirrored one another. Both had the same sands, the same waves, the same distant isles of Vale, and even the same birds flying in the sky. The only difference was the time of day, so that the sun rose and fell in infinity.

Beside it was the former L that was now shaped like an arch window. Spilling out of the shadows of a deep cave was a glorious four-legged dragon, with scales of gold and wings like a bird’s folded upon its back. It was peering down at where the end of its tail was curled up like a small spiral, where a little black bird was perched, beak open in song.

Then was the U, no longer detectable as it had blossomed into a simple silver rose, a loving reminder of a pendant Summer herself once wore. The edges of the rose were given a red tinge to match the woman’s graduating hair. A few of the petals were giving way, delicately falling on either side. Cursive script had been added both above and below the rose, the exact words of a poem the woman had once adored, versing out: ‘Thus kindly… I scatter’.

Finally came the T, now transformed into a maple tree not unlike the ones spread around the yard of Tai’s house. This one was on the cusp of autumn, its bright green leaves having a blush of reds, oranges and yellows. At the time it was a wish, the colors a representation of the family Tai hoped to raise at his former summer home. Below the tree, a sea of white daisies and sunflowers had sprouted up, stems bent like they were dancing. A new beginning in the sunlight.

Each one was created with a steady hand and careful consideration for the man who bore them. So that when Tai walked out the door that final time, it was no longer with shame, but with pride that he could wear something on his back that was as beautiful as he was.

Pietro allowed them to stare for several long seconds, before he requested, “Rhodes, if you could assist me for just a moment.” The other lawyer was quick join him, taking the tape measure as it was handed over. “If you would, could you measure out the length of the first tattoo for me?” The ruler made a metallic hush as it was pulled out and held against the man’s back. “Now Mr. Xiao Long, could you read for us the reading on the tape?”

Tai glanced down as Rhodes held it out towards him. “Eight and a half inches.”

“And what was the first letter of the word on your back?”

“It was an S.”

“Is the S still discernable?”

“Yes. It’s one half of the figure eight.”

Pietro nodded, glancing at his associate. “Just to make sure it is fully understood, Rhodes, can you trace the letter so that the court can clearly see what Mr. Xiao Long means?”

“Of course.” Rhodes complied, stepping to the side so it was in clear view as his finger followed the line.

“Thank you. You may return to your seat Rhodes. As can you, Mr. Xiao Long.”

Tai met Qrow’s eyes one more time, and this time gave him a tiny smile, before he turned to settle back into the chair. He fetched his shirt up off the floor.

While Tai was making himself decent once more, Pietro drew the attention his way as he held up the book to the court. “I have here in my hand a guidebook from the New Horizons Reformatory, the very same one Mr. Xiao Long attended. In chapter three of this book, are the guidelines for omega branding.” He flipped over to the chapter he had to be talking about, holding it out to Tai. “Mr. Xiao Long, would you please read aloud the parameters for acceptable size of the brand, as listed under section 3?”

“A brand is not to exceed the length of two inches and no larger than the length of the chosen body part to prevent words from circling around the limb.” Tai recited obediently.

“Mhm. And can you also read aloud section 5?”

“The chosen word cannot in any way be considered: derogatory, defamatory or otherwise indecent to be seen by the public eye.”

Pietro lowered the book. “Mr. Xiao Long, the word that was on your back is entirely indiscernible, but am I correct to assume it was a four-letter word that started with an S?”

“Yes.”

“Would you please tell the court what that word once was?”

Tai took a breath and the room seemed to hold it with him.

Then, he released it and the terrible truth along with it, “It used to say ‘Slut’.”

Not a word was uttered. Even the reporters in the back had nothing to say, because it spoke for itself.

Qrow chanced a glance upwards. Few could look at Taiyang, and those who were did not hide their humanity. Of course, it was the four leaders that seemed the most prominent. Theo’s frown was heavily pronounced, his gaze burning holes into the tabletop in front of him. James was running a hand over his eyes, a sagging to his once proud shoulders. Leo was shaking his head, murmuring quietly to himself. And Oz, as usual, was near completely unreadable, hiding his expression behind his hands again.

Hope beat like a frail thing in his chest and he tried not to hold it too hard.

The silence was eventually broken by Pietro snapping the book closed with an air of finality. “Thank you, Mr. Xiao Long. I have no further questions. You may step down.”

“Well,” Leo spoke up, as the two men began to move. “As there are no further witnesses, we’ll allow for the final statements. After that, the jury will convene for a judgment and-”

The rest of it faded to background noise, Qrow’s fixation completely on Tai as he passed between the tables.

The omega paused, just long enough to mouth a single word to him before he continued on:

‘Soon.’

It felt like a promise.

~

Thirty minutes was all it took to decide his fate.

He had thought the deliberation period would last longer. That everything they’d done here today would shake up at least some people’s conventions. Yet, for the decision to be made so quickly meant there’d been little to no discourse. No split votes. No uncertainties. Nothing that held up their ruling.

Almost as if their verdict had been made well before he even first walked into the room.

It didn’t seem to add up. After all the heavy expressions, outbursts, and shocked silences, Qrow had thought they had had an impact.

Had it all just been for the cameras?

Had nothing mattered?

Traversing the path back to the conference room for the last time, Qrow felt like he was walking back to the gallows.

“Don’t look so glum. It’s not over yet.” Pietro urged as he wheeled along beside him.

He scoffed. “Tch. Might as well be. Face it wheels, they already knew what they wanted to do with me before we ever started this dog and pony show.”

“Perhaps…” Was all he said and thankfully no more.

On his other side, Rhodes offered him a firm pat to the back, though it failed to do much when his own expression was crooked with nerves.

Too soon, Qrow was settled back into his chair between his lawyers. Not much had changed about the room, except the witness chair was gone and the reporters had been given permission to encroach further in the room – most of them stood only ten feet away from his table. Across the way, Watts was completely at ease, his hands clasped before his face to hide a smirk. No doubt because he too knew this was already over.

Ozpin spoke first, “We’ve called you back in here because our councils have reached our verdicts. Each head of council will give their individual verdicts based on majority vote before giving our unanimous ruling. Mr. Branwen, we ask you to come to the center of the room as we read our verdict.”

The heat of an invisible spotlight followed him every step of the way as he did as requested, until he stood in the exact spot he’d made his initial testimony. But the anxiety he’d felt then was nothing compared to now – heart pounding, ears rushing, hands curled up into fists to hide their shakes. It took all of his strength to look up and face the court. Every face he looked at was carefully blank, giving away nothing.

Barred, like he soon would be.

“James,” Oz gestured towards him, “Since the defendant was apprehended on your kingdom’s grounds, I feel it only appropriate to allow you to go first.”

“Thank you Oz.”

As the general got to his feet, Qrow ducked his head to hide his grimace. It was better this way. Hearing the one kingdom that assuredly condemned him meant he couldn’t possibly get his hopes up by any other rulings.

James began, voice commanding all attention to him, “In the case of Qrow Branwen v. the Four Kingdoms-”

He screwed his eyes shut. On the cusp of the end of his life, he swore it flashed before him. Tiny, trivial, nearly uncatchable bits of the people he’d left behind or let down.

His father’s stern hand.

The softness of his mother’s hugs.

His twin’s pretentious stance.

His nieces’ excitement every time he came home.

The buzzing of his pen as he drew a thousand different works of art upon a thousand different people.

“-We, the council of Atlas, ruled 3-to-5 and find the accused…”

But of everything that slipped in and out like sand through an hourglass, the one that held tightest without letting go was Tai. Until there was nothing left in his memories but the bright smile he’d first fallen in love with eighteen years ago.

A smile he’d taken for granted twelve years ago.

Had fought to bring back six years ago.

Now, today, he’d be taking it away, as the world who cared nothing for an omega’s happiness found a way to break his heart for a third and final time.

I’m sorry, Tai. Qrow thought helplessly just as the verdict was declared.

“-Innocent of disorderly conduct against omegakind.”

Qrow wasn’t sure if the boom he heard was Watts’ hands meeting the table from shock or his own head exploding.

Had… he truly heard that right?

As he dared peek in James’ direction, he swore he got the hint of a smile on the man’s face as he took his seat once more. A glance back, and he could see Pietro and Rhodes’ optimistic expressions. Watched the reporters twitter about animatedly, repeating the ruling into their cameras.

“Can you believe-”

“The ruling is in-”

“-and in this shocking turn of events-”

“-Atlas’ decision is innocent!”

The shock hadn’t even had a chance to start wearing off, before Qrow’s focus was forward once more as Leo was encouraged to go next.

His proclamation was much shorter: “The Mistral council finds Qrow Branwen innocent in a 6-to-9 ruling.”

Then went Theo, who had the audacity to wink at him before speaking, “The Vacuo council ruled 7-to-11 that Mr. Branwen is innocent.”

Breath coming short and every bit of him tingling, Qrow could barely contain his anticipation as Ozpin stood to give the final verdict:

“In a unanimous 8-to-8 ruling, we the Vale council also declare the accused innocent. As the UFK has reached a shared ruling, Qrow Branwen will be acquitted of all charges against him.” Before the commotion could really get going, the leader held up a hand, speaking over it, “Furthermore, this case has brought to our attention that omega branding has become an outdated and, quite frankly, inhumane practice. Thus, we have decided that any form of branding will be prohibited in all institutions across the four kingdoms from this day forward.”

The reaction to those words was a thunderous roar that rattled the windows and shook the rafters. It took Qrow a moment to place the source, until it hit him that it was coming from outside. It was the massive crowd that had gathered on the lawn, all cheering so loudly that it was bouncing off the walls, amplifying the noise until it resonated more like a pride of lions triumphantly sounding off, letting their voices be heard.

Silenced no longer.

In the wake of it, Ozpin was almost inaudible as he finished, “This court is now adjourned. Qrow, you’re free to go.”

It took him a moment to get his legs to cooperate, relief turning his limbs to jelly as he swayed back over to the table. Both lawyers were quick to greet him.

Rhodes’ excitement was palpable in the way the pat he delivered to his back was enough to whoosh all the air from his lungs. “Come on Qrow, smile! You’re not walking out of here in handcuffs.”

“I know, I just… did that really just happen?” He questioned, half-expecting to wake up from the past five minutes and discover it was all just a dream.

“That it did. Hold it with pride that this was a well-earned victory.” Pietro congratulated, holding out a hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, my boy.”

For some reason, that was what finally got the tears to gather, though Qrow stubbornly tried not to let them fall as he shook the other’s hand. “Thank you. Both of you. I wouldn’t have had a chance without you.”

“Believe me when I say the thanks is all from us. Working on a case like this is something lawyers only dream of.” Rhodes replied. “I haven’t seen this old man so invigorated in years!”

“Now Rhodes, don’t make it seem so self-serving. Anybody with eyes could see Qrow was no criminal. In the end, it’s not the prestige that I’ll be holding onto, but the joy in seeing this young man walk free.” The elder admonished.

The battle was lost as the first tear slipped down his face, though Qrow was quick to wipe it away. “I-”

“Mr. Branwen! Can I get a statement?”

He started at the shout, seeing one of the reporters beelining towards him – though her call had drawn the attention and ravenousness of the others. Sharks, all of them.

Pietro mumbled quietly, “Rhodes, I believe Qrow needs to make a hasty exit.”

“Got it.” Before he could blink, the lawyer was pushing him between the cameras and the microphones, saying diplomatically as they went on by, “While I’m certain Mr. Branwen would love to answer all your questions, he has a rather important matter to attend too.” He would have sworn it was just a ruse meant to dissuade the press. But then they reached the doors, and Rhodes was leaning over, whispering in his ear, “Take a left, then go down the second hallway. You’ll find an elevator there. Tai’s on the second floor, room 218.”

The realization hit like a strike of lightning.

Right, no more cells. No more handcuffs. No more guards.

If he stepped out of this room, no one would stop him.

He was truly and wholly free to go.

Which meant…

“Go get him.”

Qrow hardly needed the push, feet pounding loudly on marble as he sprinted down the hallway, running faster than he ever had in his entire life. His shadow stretched alongside the wall beside him, cast by the falling sun outside that came through the floor to ceiling windows. A glance outside revealed the masses still celebrating. They were a sea of faces, indistinguishable in the dimming light, but their rapture was universal. Seen in the hugs being shared. Shoulders being cried on. In the group that had started to dance for no other reason than to share in each other’s joy.

Tomorrow, they’d remember the other battles still left to be fought, the inequalities still meant to be corrected – but today was for rejoicing, for reveling in one of the most monumental gains for omegakind in over fifty years.

Through the tinted windows, Qrow smiled to them before disappearing around the second corner without a single one of them ever knowing he was there.

Unseen as he always was meant to be.

~

The elevator was taking too long.

“Come on, come on.” Qrow pressed the button another half dozen times, tapping his foot impatiently. As he waited, he couldn’t help but wonder what Tai was doing right now. Was he still watching the newsreel on his scroll? Or was he standing by the window, watching the ongoing merry-making of his fellow omegas? Or maybe he was pacing the room, just as anxious to see him as Qrow himself was.

Gods above, he didn’t even know what he was going to say to him. All he knew was he needed to be with him, right now.

He stared at the light above the door like he could will it to light up.

Another few seconds passed and it remained offensively dark.

“Tch!” He scowled at it, rushing back into hallway, sprinting for the door at the end that had a sign marked “Fire Escape” on it. He sent a silent prayer that it wouldn’t be alarmed as he reached for the knob.

Only for it to swing open of its’ own accord.

Qrow’s heart jumped as he suddenly found himself staring back at Tai, disheveled and winded, on the other side. Like he’d just run the entire way here.

The omega took about a half-step out before his eyes blew wide as he realized who was standing in front of him. “Qrow! How did you – I mean, what are you doing?”

“Coming to find you.” Qrow rasped, swallowing a bit. “How ‘bout you?”

Tai’s scent spiked, nerves making it sharper, more prominent. “I, uh, same. Was trying to use the elevator but-”

“It was taking too long?” He guessed, a smile pulling at the edges of his lips.

“Yeah.” Tai said, beginning to grin along with him.

Then they were laughing, as it hit them that in their haste to see one another, they had done the exact same thing. Qrow’s amusement only grew, when he surmised that the reason the elevator was probably taking so long was because it was on Tai’s floor, waiting for the blond who already was long gone.

He was just starting to get ahold of himself, taking in a breath to speak, when a ding sounded off and voices and footsteps filled the hall. He glanced back, unease filling him as he recognized Robyn’s voice. Though he imagined she was probably going to join the festivities out front, if she spotted him, she’d surely want to catch a word. He wasn’t the only one to pick up on the issue, because Tai abruptly grabbed onto his wrist, yanking him into the stairwell. The door whispered shut behind them.

“Sorry, I just…” Tai trailed off, letting go.

Which was just unacceptable. Qrow reached out, capturing his hand in his and squeezing tightly. “I know. Me too.” The omega looked between their hands back to him.  “So… all this time?”

“I, yeah.” He sucked in a sharp breath, a swell of emotions caught in his tone, “I wanted to tell you so long ago. But, I just – Gods I don’t even know where to start.”

He hushed him soothingly, brushing away the tears threatening to fall. “Hey, none of that now. Remember what you told me before? Just because they’re your feelings for me doesn’t mean I own them.” That same hand quested further, winding around the back of his head to card through blond locks. “In fact, forget all that. I don’t need you to explain and by Gods do I not want you to apologize, for anything.” He lent forward, until their foreheads brushed and all they could see was each other. “I just want to know: This is really what you want? You want to be with me?”

Those beautiful blue eyes that Qrow’d seen be as turbulent as a stormy sea and as calm as an undisturbed lake stared back at him in a way he’d never quite seen before. They had softened to something strikingly warm and crystal clear, much like the beaches of Patch. Like home.

“Yes.” Tai resolutely replied, gentle and sweet. “Yes, I really do.”

Overwhelmed, Qrow could only bring him that much closer, promising against his lips reverently, “Okay. Then I’m yours,” before the distance between them closed.

Somewhere, the world was still turning around them. But for Qrow, his own had been off its axis for months now.

It was only in Tai’s lips against his that he felt it finally right itself once more.

~

It was still blissfully early in the workday when Qrow led his final customer back to the front of his shop, going through the care instructions like a mantra. “-And don’t forget, no direct sunlight until it’s fully healed. Got all that?”

“Yep!” Gretchen assured, her high voice giving an almost musical lyre to her words. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to get rid of all my stupid knee-high socks.”

Distracted by a random flutter of anxiety, his response came late, “Ah, don’t mention it.”

They walked into the lobby area – or, as he often jokingly referred to it, his art museum. The walls were covered in nothing but framed mementos of his work. Some were just drawn onto sketchbook paper, others were actual photos of past clients showing off their marks. The room was fairly sparse besides a small desk that had his itinerary for the year and a desk phone. A few chairs were also scattered about the room for friends or family of the client.

In one of them sat Gretchen’s brother, Hazel. Upon seeing them, the absolute mountain of an alpha got to his feet, trudging on over. “All done?”

“Uh-huh.” The woman launched herself at him and despite her petite size, Qrow could tell her hugs were rather large. “Thank you for paying for this.”

“I’m just glad it made you happy.” He said with complete sincerity, his own embrace lifting her off the ground.

Qrow had to wonder if it was like getting a hug from a grizzly bear. Still, the sight pulled a smile out of him. It was always reassuring, seeing his clients getting the support they deserved. “Call if anything doesn’t seem right, okay?”

“I will.” With a wave goodbye from Gretchen and a silent nod of gratitude from Hazel, the pair left his shop together, plans to visit the ice cream shop down the block trailing after them.

He locked the door behind them, a sense of anticipation rolling through him. It was rare he got to close up shop before sundown on a Friday and he was looking forward to a nice, relaxing weekend at home. He worked out the stiffness in his neck and wrist as he went about the motions of preparing for the following week. The pen was taken apart and dropped into the ultrasonic cleaner. While the cycle ran, he settled back out front to make a few calls, confirming Monday’s appointments.  Next, he checked the inks, refilling the black and blue that had begun to run low. By the time he was done with that, the cleaner was done and he reassembled the pen, storing it away in its’ kit.

After that, there was nothing left to do but pull out his scroll and text Tai.

Early night at the shop. Should be home by six.

He felt the response in another wave of anxiety well before he heard the jingle from his device. Just getting dinner started. See you soon.

Qrow hesitated, tempted not for the first time today to just ask what was up with his mate, but like every other time, he pushed the selfish desire down.

After they’d bonded, he and Tai had established early on that neither of them wanted the other to drop everything to be at each other’s beck and call whenever they felt a hint of a negative emotion. It was too stifling and, when it came right down to it, too insulting. He didn’t need Tai in his ear while dealing with an ornery customer any more than Tai needed him at his side every time one of his coworkers got on his nerves. They both wanted to feel trusted, not coddled.

So, curiosity wasn’t a great reason to break that trust.

Whatever was making Tai feel so jittery, he knew he’d tell him when he was ready. Until then…

Could pick something up on the way home, if you’d rather. He offered.

The reply was just a picture of their kitchen counter, spread with the familiar ingredients for his favorite curry dish, followed by a cheeky, You sure?

He folded quicker than a bad poker hand. Forget I said anything.

Tai just sent back a bunch of laughing faces.

Qrow took it as a good sign.

~

Harbinger’s Tattoo Parlor was located in a small shopping center in central Patch, easy to find even for the farthest of travelers. It was also a convenient fifteen-minute drive from the forest-entwined cabin Qrow called home. The trees acted like a natural privacy fence, with only a winding dirt road the only way in. Driving in, the home seemed to glisten in the late afternoon light, a recent coat of timber stain having given the logs a dazzling sheen, making the decades-old structure appear newer than it was. Little planters of sunflowers and daisies surrounded the front and eastern sides of the home, adding a serene splash of color to the dwelling. He gave the blooms an appraising eye as he continued down the path to the backyard, parking by the shed.

No sooner after he’d cut the engine and started making his way towards the house, did the door burst open and his nieces came flocking out.

“Hi uncle!” Yang said, snatching the keys as she went. “Bye uncle!”

He blinked down at his empty hand. “Hey, wait!”

“Love you!” Ruby dropped a kiss to his cheek, bouncing on by with a few colorful giftbags swinging on her arms and a bundle of fur clutched between her hands.

“You’re taking Zwei too?!”

Already halfway in the driver’s seat, the younger alpha shouted back, a clear tease in her tone, “Thought you didn’t like the ‘mangy mutt’?”

“I don’t – was just hoping you were leaving him there!” He retaliated, waving a hand behind him as he headed inside. “Have fun. And don’t crash my car.”

The roar of the vehicle coming to life drowned out whatever response they may have given him. He counted his blessings the Valkyrie residence was only a few houses away as he watched them peel away before stepping into the kitchen. The sound that greeted him was the swishing of a wooden spoon mixing food into a skillet, the heat up high to bring it to a shimmer.

“Welcome home!”  Tai greeted with an unusual amount of enthusiasm.

Unsure if it was wise to address it or not, Qrow erred on the side of caution as he strode over with nothing more than a casual, “Hey sunshine.”

He waited until the omega had set the cover down on the pan, before gathering him up in his arms and pulling him back against his chest. When that was met with no resistance, he nuzzled against the side of his neck. After being surrounded by a variety of different scents, it was nice to be enveloped by only his mate’s earthy aroma.

“Mm, how was your day?” Tai asked as turned in his grasp to return the gesture.

Qrow tilted his head back to allow him. “Good. Finished off Gretchen’s mark today.”

“The one who wanted the gingerbread house?”

“Yeah.” He shivered a bit as lips brushed against his bond mark, the scarring having left the area extra sensitive. “How was yours?”

Another spike both in his gut and in Tai’s scent. But his mate only brushed it off with a chuckle. “Oh you know my students, they always like to kid around.”

He groaned, nipping his ear in retribution. “No.”

That got him a more honest laugh. Tai wiggled free, turning away to start cleaning up the dishes and spices he’d left out. “It was math and movie day, so nothing interesting to report.”

With his back turned, he couldn’t see the way Qrow frowned. He’d hoped once they were in the same room together, Tai would open up. Now, he had no idea what was going on. Unless…

He eyed the skillet, his favorite dish still bubbling away underneath the top. It wasn’t unusual for him to make it, but after a long, tiring week at work, slaving over a stove was the last thing either of them wanted to do. Usually, they had pizza or leftovers or something quick and easy. Tai deciding to do something special reeked of him trying to butter him up for something.

Then, there was the oddity of the girls’ bringing Zwei along for a birthday party. Fun as the puppy was, he was also a lot of work and Qrow really couldn’t see a group of teenagers willingly wanting to spend an entire weekend watching him. Especially when he couldn’t get his own to clean their rooms.

Which meant, either they’d been bribed or Tai had been.

“Really, nothing at all?” Despite his mounting suspicion, he kept his tone casual, crossing over to the fridge to fetch himself a drink.

Another clench in his gut. Another lie on Tai’s tongue. “Yeah. It was just another normal day.”

Normal his ass. Qrow pulled out a beer, cracking it open and kicking the fridge door shut all in one motion. He swore to the Gods, if all this was over some new mutt hiding out in their shed, he was going to lose it.

Tai passed him on the way to the sink, pausing just long enough to drop a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

…But, he supposed he could play along.

~

“Want dessert?”

The call from the kitchen roused him and Qrow’s eyes slipped back open.

He had long ago kicked off his shoes and his ankles were crossed over the coffee table while he lounged back on the couch. The T.V. was playing the latest episode of All Our Life but he’d long ago tuned out whatever comedy the campy sitcom was trying to pull. It had been going downhill ever since Season 3 anyways. Tai must have felt the same, if he’d decided to clear the dishes instead of waiting for the credit roll.

“What are we having?” He yelled back, hitting the power button on the remote with his toe. Maybe they could put on a movie instead.

“Tried and true!”

He snorted. “Sure.”

There was a clack as the pantry opened and closed. The nerves had spiked again, bad enough Qrow had to take a few deep breathes. He sat up straight, bracing himself for the ‘news’. He’d already planned out his reaction. He couldn’t wait to yank Tai’s chain over adopting yet another mangy menace for them to care for – even if he was going to give in in the end.

“Oh, that reminds me, I thought of a great joke.” Tai said as he came back into the room.

Oh Gods, this was how he was going to tell him? Forget it. The furball was going back to pound. “Great is relative with you.”

“Oh hush up and listen! So, what did the bumblebee say to the sugar ant on his birthday?”

His brow furrowed, confused. That didn’t really lead to ‘puppy’ or ‘kitty’. “I don’t know, what?”

“He said,” Tai replied as he tossed him the packaged cupcake, winking as he did, “Boy, this sure is a sweet gift!”

“Ha. Ha. I’m just dying over here.” He deadpanned, ripping open the plastic.

Qrow waited for the rest of the punchline to come, but his mate only dropped down next to him, saying nothing even as his anxiety skyrocketed. Alright. Still not ready then.

He sighed softly, tugging out the cupcake, removing the cardboard bottom.

And froze.

“Speaking of gifts…”

Tai’s voice seemed to come from far away, barely tugging away Qrow’s focus as it centered on the little square in his hand.

Flecks of chocolate had clung to it, but it wasn’t enough to block out the words written on it in happy, yellow ink:

We’re pregnant.

“We’re… You’re…” He stilted out, mind whirling as he looked at his mate, “We’re gonna have…?”

Tai was biting his lip, but it didn’t quite tame the growing smile as he nodded.

Love and affection surged so strongly in Qrow’s heart, Tai’s eyes started to water. The omega was laughing by the time Qrow had dropped the things in his hands to instead pull him into his arms, hugging him as tight as he could. He rained kisses and adoration along the other’s face. “I love you. I love you so much. My Gods. We’re really having a pup?”

“Uh-huh.” Tai swiped away some tears budding in Qrow’s eyes now, even as more fell from his own, the emotions growing between their bond intense and overwhelming. “Found out this morning. I’ve been waiting all day to tell you.”

“I knew you were freaking out about something. But I thought you were gonna tell me we were getting another dog!”

Tai guffawed loudly. “Of course not! Unless…”

“No!!”

He only dissolved into more hysterics. Qrow was soon to follow, the joy contagious.

~

It was hard to know how long they stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, but eventually they found themselves sprawled together on the couch, talking long into the night about all the little wonders their future now held. From how they’d break the news to Ruby and Yang to how they wanted to decorate the spare room when it became a nursery, there was so much to think about. But rather than feel worried, Qrow only had anticipation in his heart.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d freak out.” He remarked, smoothing soothing circles along his mate’s back.

Tai rose a bit from where he was resting on his clavicle. “I mean, I know we talked about it here and there, but we hadn’t exactly planned this.”

“Sunshine, I dunno where you’ve been the past two decades, but nothing in my life was something I planned out.”

“That’s not-!” The omega paused his own argument, adding humbly, “…entirely true.”

He snorted. “Good save.” He carded a hand through blond locks. “Look. A few years ago, I never even dreamed I’d ever have you, let alone the chance to make a family with you. So, no matter how it happened, I definitely don’t need a plan to know I want this. Don’t you?”

“More than anything.” Tai confirmed, ducking his head. “In fact I… couldn’t help but think this was a do over. That this time I’d get to raise a child without interruption from, well, anything.”

Sorrow skimmed over their connection, almost unnoticeable. Old hurts from broken hearts and cruel injustices, things that had healed with time but never forgotten in how they hurt.

Qrow pressed a kiss to his forehead, murmuring, “Third time’s the charm?”

“Heh, guess it is. Though,” His expression turned teasing, “Aren’t you a bit of a bad luck charm, Mr. Crow?”

He groaned, dropping his head back against the armrest of the couch. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Tai pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “That’s the crime of loving me.”

“Well, if that’s the case, lock me up and throw away the key.” He declared like the delinquent he was.

“And you say I have bad jokes.”

“You do. I, on the other hand,” He said, gesturing grandly, “am an artiste.”

Tai’s chuckles were a victory all on their own.

But the reward was in the kiss that followed, devotion intertwining through the bond.

Qrow tilted his head, giving back as much as he was given. His left hand clenched onto the back of Tai’s shirt, where just underneath rested the colorful tapestry that once was the symbol of a new start. Now, it lay with his right hand’s caress to the side of Tai’s belly where their child was steadily and surely growing.

A new beginning that they’d embrace together.

[starfirette]

Every Which Way : Chapter Five

The Way Towards Family

➡️Previously

➡️a/n: this is it. This is the chapter I have been dying to write. After this there’s only one other scene I am on the edge of my seat for, but that comes much later 😈 also, I just realized that I’d been advertising this chapter as chapter four. it’s actually chapter five. fml. I TRIED MY BEST TO EDIT THIS FAST SO I’M SORRY BUT HERE IT IS! LIKE COMMENT SUBSCRIBE SEE YA NEXT TIME GAMERS

➡️ OC page, if you care: chapter includes Wendi and Ryder

➡️Din Djarren/The Mandalorian x Reader | face reveal | smut | angsty feelings kind of | sorta fluffy? | marriage 👁👁 >> !NEXT CHAPTER OUT NOW!<<

Even knowing morning has come, you linger in your bed a while. The silence of the room has become a comfort, and the only noise you ever hear is the occasional cuff of boots by your door.

This morning as you stare into the cracks of the ceiling you hear the soft voices of Mandalorian children murmuring rumors.

“I heard she is so ugly that her planet doesn’t want her anymore,” one voice exclaims in a loud whisper.

Another child hissed a remark: “That’s not true. I heard she’s so beautiful that there was a fight over who could keep her.”

You haven't seen many children around the covert. The tunnels are mostly littered with Mandalorians who sharpen their weapons and keep keen watch.

The time came to rise long after those children had scurried off; you could not hide in your room all day. Dressing slowly in your long sleeved tunic and pants, you became lost in thought; your life would take its final turn in a matter of hours. The wedding would commence, and the court guardian in covert captivity would be sent back to Aniri to spread the news that the infamous, fugitive, servant girl would never come back. She would never be repossessed, no matter how many fits Emelea, the new queen, threw. The servant girl would be Din Djarren’s wife.

The thought did make you tremble. Your belly flipped as you laced up your boots without really looking at them. The confession he gave last night still felt like a dream. He’d departed too quickly after the engagement, his only goodbye being the tender press of his helmet against your forehead. He hadn’t returned all night, though you stayed awake hoping he would. The revelation of his feelings felt fraudulent—you couldn’t be sure he wasn’t lying to you, and you never could be. You had to live on and figure this out as you went through the motions, succumbing to the waves of your brand new Way of life.

Combing the knots from your hair with remarkably still fingers, you found yourself contemplating once more.

Contemplation has proved to be your natural enemy these past days. Forming ideas in your mind is a dangerous thing, for once forged, you couldn’t ever forget them. You will never forget the words Din had just spit out so recently. He doesn’t care about you, he isn’t your friend, he has nothing to give to you. You’d interpreted all of that from the single sentence he’d offered like a rotten fruit.

I do not care about you.

And even after saying this, he’d come to your room and begged for your hand in marriage. You’d agreed because at the time you were swayed into believing him, but given his abrupt departure you couldn’t help but contemplate his words. Sweet words can be said any time, any day, but they would never erase the cruel ones.

And Din had said such sweet words. Some you wanted to believe in so badly.

You slipped your belt around your hips, attaching the buckles at the bone then around your thighs. You carried three total weapons now. The pistol, the beskad, and the besbev. Your beskad weighed heavy on your leg, the curve of the blade wrangling against the angle of your stride a bit awkwardly. The besbev had become your closest friend of all the three. It’s beautiful to look at and more beautiful to play. It is a traditional instrument from the older age of Mandalore, a flute, with a blade sharp enough to split skin by the seams at the opposite end. The pistol is self explanatory. It’s not nearly as easy to use as you’d thought. From yesterday’s squabble in the desert your arm ached so, so badly. The recoil of every shot had done its due diligence.

Sheathing the final weapon on your hip, you take a deep breath that ricochets in a wheeze through your chest. Striding among the Mandalorians like your one of them feels like an epic crime. Compared to even a random woman from any other planet you’re small. You’re weak and unable to do well in battle. Compared to these women, why would Din want you?

You lingered around the furnace entrance for a moment, watching as Gold hammered away at no doubt another weapon. You cleared your throat on the off beat of the rhythm, catching Gold’s attention.

“Good morning,” she greets with a cordial nod of her head.

You don’t reply. You walk into the furnace and stand as close as you can to Gold without being molested by runaway sparks.

“You made that choice for me,” you speak, cutting into Gold’s question. She put down her hammer and gestured for you to continue. Through a clenched breath, you ranted out: “Din brought my off Aniri so I could have freedom. To earn that freedom, a choice was made, in which I was not involved, or even consulted. You should have told me.”

Gold inclined her head. “I am sorry,” she says simply.

There’s nothing else she can say to ease your anger. You know this, accepting her apology with a short huff. "Where's Din?"

Harboring sparks over her leather apron, Gold shook her head. “Unaware. I would suspect he’s preparing for the ceremony or he’s further interrogating the captive.”

“Curious,” you note. “What else would he need to know?”

Gold looked at you with a blank expression—even through the helmet, you can tell you should know what Din could want from the court guardian.

“You’re to be his wife, child,” Golds says, suddenly gentle. “Do you blame him for wanting to ensure your lifelong safety? You must know by now that he loves you.”

You calculate the chances of Din telling her to say that. As low as they might be, you still can’t bring yourself to truly believe it. Brushing the detail away with your hand, you looked Gold straight in the visor. “The guardian said we had twenty four hours,” you prompt. “Yesterday.”

“Do relax,” Gold eases you. “Everything is being taken care of.”

“I don’t like hearing that,” you say snippingly. “The last time someone said that to me, I was signed into marriage. Please don’t mistake my aggression for sensitivity.”

Gold had nothing to say to that. She exhaled, a half laugh sort of sound. “There will be a wedding tonight. The guardian will bear witness and he can send a transmission first thing after the ceremony. Tomorrow Paz and his brother will escort the man back to his own planet.”

You lifted one of your brows. “Brother?” You repeated.

“Ryder,” Gold clarified.

Your jaw dropped. “Ryder and Paz are brothers?”

You would have never guessed, with Ryder’s harsh attitude and Paz’s gentle way of doing anything. You shook your head.

“What do I have to do?”

“For one, you have to be at the ceremony,” Gold snickered. You didn’t appreciate the humor at the suspenseful moment. Huffing a tiny sigh, Gold shook her head. “Mandalorian marriage is a rather traditional occasion. The entire covert will be watching. The contract will have to be sealed with blood.”

You drew back, looking absolutely startled.

Gold raised her hand. “Not a great deal. It’s a simple prick of your finger. There will be a second contract which you will have to sign. It’s to be recognized by the Anirian council. There will have been two signed contracts, so there will not be any mistakes. I don’t have to tell you what else you’ll be doing,” she then concluded. She tilted her helmet up, as if she were sneaking a glance of you through her hair. “I don’t, do I?”

“What else do I have to do?” You asked, a feeling of nausea overcoming you once again.

“You will have to consummate the marriage.”

“‘Consummate?’” You repeated. A foreign word. Paz hadn’t taught you that one.

“Yes,” Gold said carefully. “That is...well, child, you will have to have sex with Din.”

You nodded, though your face burned with fierce embarrassment. “Thank you for pointing that out to me,” you say sarcastically.

“I won’t lie. I did think that you didn’t know what sex is,” Gold continued.

“I do,” you assure her.

“You do. Well, this is good, because you have to do it.”

“I know,” you grit through your teeth.

“Do you know how?” Gold then asked.

You shut your eyes, wishing this would end already. “I didn’t come here to ask how to give a man a blowjob,” you say loudly. “Trust me when I tell you I am not completely naïve!”

Gold looked down at her feet. She coughed into her leather glove. “Hello, Din.”

You spun on your heels to see that Din has entered the furnace, having just stepped foot past the threshold.

You abruptly seized up in your stance. A stiff thank you to Gold and then you left, making sure not to brush arms with Din’s armor.

You wished now above all other times that you could have seen Din’s face. He probably looked as mortified as you felt.

What a bother this entire day is turning out to be, you think as you retreat back into your room. You sifted through your basket of snacks and proceeded to eat cheese.

You sank into your pillows as you ate your cheese, feeling rather content with the comfort it provided your stomach. You’ve learned that good food can do lots of things. It can brighten a sour day, such as this cheese has done for you. Your final hours of being a single woman would be spent eating cheese. You wouldn't ask for it any other way truth be told. Cheese is a good treat. It’s a comfort. A luxury, even.

Yes, yes, you think as you anxiously bite into your cheese. At least as a married woman you could still eat cheese.

Being completely honest with yourself you had actually forgotten that sex was a necessary detail in a married woman’s life. Your knowledge on sex is...limited.

In the servant ranks you had been often assigned with another girl to clean and dust and polish the upper level of the palace. This happened to have a grandiose library. Because none of the girls could read, Vidia would pick and choose the small amount of books that had photos printed inside. She stole picture books often, distributing them to other girls for the price of their bread rolls or rice balls at dinner time. It was the only joy you could recall from being amongst the ranks. Vidia often brought that feeling, and as she was your usual cleaning partner, you could pick many favorable memories with her. One being huddled in the darker corners of the library, flipping through a book that could only be described as indecent. Vidia giggled while you blushed and frantically shook her arm, trying to convince her to put the book back before she became caught. At that time, she never did. You’d seen the various sexual positions and orientations. Girls could love girls, boys could love boys, and either one could be easily repulsed by anything sexual.

You wished you could read then. The book had several chapters on various topics. You couldn’t decipher anything but the photos.

Still; you’d seen how sex was supposed to work. It never occurred to you that you could enjoy sex in your lifetime. The council’s teachings made anything indecent clearly criminal, hence the reason for the rags and makeup in the first place. You’d long before associated sex with punishment. Real punishment, not the sort of punishment you’d seen painted in the book.

The very type of punishment Vidia received one day.

The thought of a penis being in close proximity to your general body hadn’t been appealing before.

It’s almost naughty of you to be a little bit thrilled at the idea of Din’s naked body flush with yours.

You only could assume that sex was something most people did for fun because the pictures always had everyone smiling.

It’s a shock that the book had even been in the library considering how conservative the council is.

You’d be forever grateful for it. Forever grateful for Vidia and her mischievous ways. In some strangled way she had saved you from eternal embarrassment on your wedding night. Although you couldn’t say confidently that tonight would go well.

You had never even touched yourself before! You didn’t know that was a thing until the book.

Maybe you’re focusing too strongly on the book.

You should be focusing more on earning your freedom rather than your first time being with a person. But as you recalled the images of girls laying in naked rows and giggling as they cuddled close, you felt yourself become sweatier by the minute.

“OW!” You yowled. You’d been preoccupied in thought and had nibbled onto your finger, having finished your block of cheese.

A knock on the door came, and you were eager to fly from your bed to answer it. Anything to distract yourself from sex with Din. And what better distraction would that be besides, surprise, surprise, Din himself.

You stared up at the T of his visor, lips tightly pressed shut.

“I’m here to take your things,” Din says bluntly.

Out of nervous habit you tucked hair behind your ears. “Why can’t I have my things?”

Fearful for the loss of what little items you possessed you tried to lessen the entry way by inching the door closed.

“Wouldn’t you rather have them in my room?” Din asked, stopping the door with the toe of his boot.

A breath of relief sounded off from your chest. Din shook his head. “I wish you would understand,” he says quietly.

“Understand what?”

“Understand that you’re truly free,” he says. “I am…”

He trailed off, looking fumbled and at a loss for words. “I am here to move your things, as I said.”

You couldn’t exactly argue. Considering he’d be your husband, you’d have to share a room with him, although you can’t exactly imagine having the space with rooms like these.

You helped him gather the little amount of possessions you did own. The new clothes he’d gotten for you you gathered in your own arms. Din made busy with gathering up the amount of books you had from Paz. “Do you enjoy reading?” Din asks. He flips through the history book you’d gotten yesterday.

“I’d enjoy it more if I could actually read,” you mutter.

Din snapped the book shut. “If you’d like, I can help you. I could read to you at night.”

Shifting the weight between your legs, all while your face and ears burned, you stuttered, “That sounds very nice.” It did sound nice. It sounded like something a real married couple would do.

You didn’t realize you would be comfortable with anyone else knowing about your illiteracy besides Paz. Din did not make it seem like a burden, or a red flag, or a flaw. He did take advantage of your stunned silence to take your clothes in his arms. “Should I lead the way?” He asks, his voice strangely vivid in your ears. The bass of his words resonated down to your eardrums, making your chest feel warm as melted butter.

You took one last look around at your bedroom, suddenly saddened by the fact you would be leaving it. It is as plain as it had been when you got it. The simple furniture and the low ceiling; despite all of that it had felt like home.

“Mesh’la,” Din says carefully. “I’m sorry.”

Snapping out of your silent goodbye you looked up at Din. “What for?” You pressed. With furrowed brows you took count of everything Din had to be sorry for.

“About the marriage,” he clarifies. “It wasn’t my first choice for you. I tried everything. Even if you moved to some other planet, they could still come for you. This is the only way to keep you truly safe.”

You smiled at the floor. “You talk about my safety a lot,” you point out.

“I care about it,” Din answered in the same knowledgeable tone. You pucker your lips, at a loss for a retort.

Walking side by side with Din, through the tunnel, felt very strange. His pace was never so concise with yours before today. Looking at him you can see he isn’t struggling. He seems natural; human, even, if you could believe it. He didn’t seem to step out of a two feet radius from you at any given time, and if one of you were to fall behind, it would always be him.

As the tunnel and its crowd thinned into a hall of silence, you looked through the walls searching for doors. A few here and there.

“Some of these are classrooms,” Din says, as if he had sensed your questions. “Some house younglings. Foundlings sleep with the younglings to encourage interaction and connection. Those who have been here the longest, with the strongest clan, tend to get the bigger rooms. It’s a bit of a social pyramid.”

Stopping at what had to be the last room in the entire covert, Din gestured for you to open the door to your new home.

The inside isn’t as shocking as you thought it would be. It’s just a bedroom. There’s a bigger bed in the center of the north wall, the quilts in a folded heap at the foot. A wide vanity and a full length mirror sits in the corner to the right of the bed; to the left, a tall wardrobe. A smaller sized bookshelf and two soft cushioned armchairs linger just beside you at the wall of the entrance. It’s not decorated or filled with anything you could use to guess it belongs to Din.

“The quilts are new,” Din explains as he shuts the door behind him. “It’s not much.”

“It’s perfect,” you tell him. “As perfect as a bedroom can be,” you quickly add, ears burning as you realize what he could have interpreted. You hurry to take the set of books from him. Awkwardly hovering over the shelf you look at him for permission.

“You could rearrange the room however you’d like and I wouldn’t say a word,” Din says. You couldn’t muster any response as you pushed the books against his.

“If you want to sleep separately I can get another bed,” Din continues as he strains himself to stand still in the corner. You step in front of him, grabbing your clothes from his arms as you sigh, “And here I thought you wanted to sleep with me.”

“I—That is not what I meant,” Din stresses.

You laughed at his reaction. “I’m teasing you,” you promise him as you journey to the wardrobe.

“I don’t like being teased,” Din grumbles.

“I’m sorry to say that I’m learning that teasing is a great deal of my personality.” You sent him a look over your shoulder, the smallest of smiles preened over your mouth.

“I don’t like being teased,” Din repeated,

Something boiled in your stomach when he said that, but it felt pleasant. Blushing furiously, you got to folding away your tunics and trousers. Din’s own clothes are folded away. You still remember the smell of his soap from the little bed on his ship. Tonight and every night after that smell would linger beside you.

Staring at the mattress, you couldn’t help but wonder how Din slept at night. Sprawled limbs? Curled? On his stomach, maybe, with one arm hooked underneath a pillow.

The bed would be the scene of consummation tonight, and bearing that in mind you quickly looked away from it.

“Thank you for thinking of doing this,” you say as you come back from the reeling dizziness Din had instilled with his words. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” you add. “I will never be able to repay you.”

Din lets out a heavy sigh. He hangs his head down, his shoulders shaking as he laughs. “I wish you would understand, mesh’la. There's nothing I ask from you other than to be my wife."

The floor swayed beneath your feet as the words rushed to your ego. You took a tiny breath to ease your conscious before taking a careful seat on the mattress.

You looked to him through loose bits of your hair as you patted a seat beside yourself. The heavy stomping of his boots shake through your toes that point down into the floor. He takes an uneasy seat, the bed creaking underneath his armor.

“You’re very kind,” you say as a natural moment of silence has passed the room. “Will I be able to see your face tonight?”

Din, almost seeming startled, clenched his hands that rested over his thighs. “Yes.”

You chewed your tongue, trying hard not to laugh or smile. He seemed as nervous as you. It is a comfort to know that the world’s most elite warrior’s could be nervous. “I hope you’ve shaved,” you say again in a teasing way.

“Oh, I have,” Din says reassuringly. Your eyes grew wide. “Do you have facial hair?” you asked hopefully, wanting something to look forward to.

A quiet laugh passed through his modulator. “I could. If you liked that, then I’d say yes.”

“And if I don’t like that?” you ask.

“Then I’d shave every day.”

You wrapped your arms around your stomach that ached as you laughed harder than you ever had before. Perhaps you’re just hysterical given the impending wedding that looms a mere few hours away. “You’ll be very agreeable if you do everything I asked of you,” you say.

Din shrugged. “I just might,” he teases. You would have rolled your eyes if you hadn’t felt so watched. You can feel his eyes glued on you, helmet or no helmet.

“If that’s true, would you answer all my questions?” you challenged.

“To the best of my abilities,” Din agreed, albeit hesitantly.

“What is a Mandalorian wedding like?”

He seemed to have not been expecting that question because he became lost in thought. His fingers splayed over his legs as he relaxed at your side. “Not what I think you’re used to. It’s as traditional as anything else we do. Unlike other cultures, we do not usually make up vows. The binding ceremony is generally the same for each couple. The same words and the same contract. We’re not expected to kiss in front of a crowd. The rules don’t change. But tonight, after the contract is signed, it will be expected of me to remove my helmet. Removing the helmets is a custom saved only for the couple.”

You nod. “I see. But I don’t have a helmet.”

“Not to spoil the surprise, but you’ll soon see everything has been arranged. This wedding will be unlike any other. Rather than one Mandalorian vow, you and I will exchange vows set by Anirian standards. It’s important that the council recognizes our marriage as legal.”

You shiver at the idea of Emelea refusing to accept your marriage. You aren’t entirely certain she’ll be quick to disregard you just because you married Din. You aren’t so much focused on the legality of the ceremony, though. You’re fearful for the outcome that may destroy the covert.

“What are you thinking?” Din asks. His soft voice passed over you like a fluffy cloud, shielding you from the burning sun. You basked in the feeling it gave you for a second.

“I’m thinking that I would never forgive myself if your people went to war because of me.” You sounded quiet and sad, something you didn’t want to convey, but you couldn’t help the feeling.

“We’re Mandalorians, mesh’la,” Din says confidently. “I’m sure we’d be fine.”

You cast your future husband a disregarding look. “This is a covert for a reason,” you argued. “The Armorer told me everything. Other Mandalorians may be able to afford a war, but not mine. Not you.”

Din’s heavy hand placed gently over your thigh, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of your trousers. “When it comes to you, I am more than capable of taking down entire armies.”

You felt the urge to hold his hands twinge in your fingers. You might have taken the opportunity to kiss him if you could’ve.

Rather than voice this, you opted to put your hand on top of his, squeezing his grip around your leg. “I’m excited to see what you look like,” you beam. “Before, I was nervous. I’m not so nervous anymore.” You bring your hand up to touch the side of his helmet, where the metal contoured like cheek bones. “You sound like your eyes are brown.”

Din took his turn to hold you next, holding your hand in place.

“No hints?” You asked after a moment of intense staring.

“None.”

With a final squeeze to your hand, Din moved you away then took to his feet. “We should get ready. Wendi will be looking for you, soon.”

You frowned deeply, crossing your arms as you remained intent on hiding in your new bedroom. “Why?”

“I told you that Mandalorian weddings are very traditional,” Din points out, the smirk evident in his voice. “You will have to get ready eventually.”

You groaned. Knowing that Wendi doesn’t like you unsurprisingly turns you off from getting her help. Besides, she’s most likely angry at you for getting her yelled at yesterday after the fight with the guardians.

Begrudgingly you followed Din to the furnace. You considered holding his hand, but chose not to, as you weren’t sure just how affectionate he’s ready to be.

Wendi, Paz, Ryder, and the Armorer already lingered around, having a low conversation while two female Mandalorians worked silently in the corner, using rags to polish armor cuffs.

“Well, if it isn’t the lovebirds of the hour,” Ryder snides. He rests up against the lockers, huge arms strapped over his chest. You resisted a loud huff, telling yourself it’s better to let him be than to give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction.

Wendi’s blue helmet juts a nod in your direction as a greeting.

“Here I was hoping you two would just elope,” Wendi says with a sneer in her voice.

So much for the brief moment of indifference.

“I hope you’re both well rested,” Gold says curtly. “Revisions have just been made. The ceremony may commence at any time.”

You and Din looked to each other. You felt the sense of something like camaraderie, but more intimate. It’s not as though the relationship is like anything anyone’s ever had. There are doubts and feelings still unspoken. Despite that, there’s more than what meets the eye.

The agreement became finalized as Din gave a single nod of his head.

“I’m ready if Din is.”

Ryder cackled while he rubbed his oversized hands together. “I’m ready for something finally exciting,” he exclaimed.

He sauntered forward, grabbing Din by the arm. “Time for your bachelor party,” he declared as he led Din out of the furnace. You felt cold without him by your side; cold and aware of the emptiness beside you. You remained tall, pushing your shoulders out and leaving your chin high in the air. “What happens now?”

Paz spoke this time. “The bride and groom should review their vows while they get dressed. The bride wears a special dress underneath armor. It’s common for Mandalorians to marry non-Mandalorians. Even then it’s important to uphold tradition. On their wedding night, the face of the riduur is reserved for their significant other. After today, the helmet will be yours. It’s up to you whether or not you want to uphold the creed, but tonight, you must.”

That was Paz’s kind way of telling you dressing in Mandalorian garb is a necessary effort you cannot and should not decline. Paz clicked his heels together in a quick bow of goodbye. “I will see you at the ceremony.”

“Thank you, Paz,” you said before he could leave the furnace.

The short nod of his head was a silent form of ‘you’re welcome.’

When only the ladies remained in the furnace, the door became shut and locked, which you’d never seen before. The furnace had always been open for everyone.

“Y/n, please meet Genevieve and Nyra,” the Armorer said as she gestured to the two females who had been silent until now.

“Nice to meet you,” they both said softly, which you reciprocated, including the bow of your head.

“They are under my apprenticeship and have been younglings in our covert for many years. They helped make your wedding armor.”

Genevieve stood about 5 feet tall, if not a few inches taller, and her armor is sprayed a deep, almost pastel purple. You can see she scratched in designs on the cuffs and leather, like wildflowers and stars.

Nyra, on the other hand, stood two heads taller than Gen. Her armor was polished to a mirror like glaze and every plate and leather strap in perfect place.

Wendi tapped her foot anxiously as she watched you interact with the younger girls instead of getting dressed. “Not to be a jerk, but the sun’s already going down. If we want to get the guardian off planet by trooper rotation, then Y/n’s gotta be dressed and married by the next hour.”

You grimace. “I suppose we should get on with it,” you agreed.

You undressed to your undergarments, watching as Nyra and Gen took a sheer black dress from a locker. It reached your knees and fit loosely around your body, mostly the waist and shoulders where the straps felt loose.

“It’s meant to be that way,” Gen promises as she makes some adjustments. She sounds kind through her modulator. “It’s only meant to go underneath the armor.”

You looked down at yourself, feeling quite like a widow rather than a bride as the black skirt swished around your knees.

Wendi and Nyra brought over the first pieces of your armor. Wendi straightens your shoulders for you, a bit too forcefully to be kind. You sent her a glowering look as Nyra fit the breast plate against your chest. You held it in place while Gen attached the shoulder plates.

You would then wear knee and shin guards made of the same white gold as your chest plate. You enjoyed getting the new pair of shoes the most, though; heavy boots as bold as any other Mandalorian’s, but velvety black with white laces. The toes had steel inside, as you could tell as you tapped the toe of each boot against the cobblestone floors.

“Wendi,” Gold says tamely, holding out a hair comb. “Can you be trusted with such a task?”

Wendi plucked the comb from her hand. “Why would I not be?” she snubbed.

You flinched when Wendi took a fistful of your hair in her gloved hands. To your surprise, she was gentle as she twisted it up into a knot on the back of your head, using the comb to stick the bun in place.

“You make an agreeable riduur,” Nyra notes from across the furnace.

“Thank you,” you say. “Although, I’m not sure I know what a riduur is.”

“It’s a mando’a, gender neutral term for a spouse,” Gen fills you in. “Bride, groom, wife, husband, or even neither and both.”

You nod. “So, mando’a is the language you all speak?”

“It used to be,” Gold says from her usual place by her stove.  

“Before the purge,” you guessed.

“It was our first language as children,” Gold explains. “We are lucky if a youngling can even pick it up these days.”

“Hey! Ner mando’a...it’s...ah, it’s slipped my mind,” Gen said, defeated. “Still, I can at least understand it.”

You wondered what it would be like to understand two languages; you can’t even read your own. Rather than letting that tear you down, you return your focus to your armor and dress. “I won’t have to wear makeup, right?” you asked fearfully.

“Oh, no,” Gen says in a gasp. “Only your husband shall see your face tonight. It is an honor to see a newlywed’s face! We did make you something special.”

Gen and Nyra pressed at Gold to hurry on and show ‘it’ to you, and you watched with anxiety as Gold dug through her cooler. Presenting to you the latest object of her creation, you couldn’t help but gasp.

It was a helmet, of Mandalorian design, sculpted just for you out of rosegold and beskar. The T of the visor rippled like a wavy vine across the front.

Gold set the helmet in your hands.The weight could be balanced perfectly if you held it in your two palms perfectly upright. It’s pretty to look at with the rose gold sheen that glimmers when it hits the light in that certain way.

“There’s a hidden design,” Gen proudly says. She ushers herself over, guiding her hand to the underside of the helmet. At the touch of a button, the visor would roll up, revealing your face through the hollow part of the helmet.

“Amazing,” you guffawed.

“It was my idea,” Gen beamed. “It didn’t feel right to force you to hide your face, again. This way you can at least look like a Mandalorian, but still feel free and safe.”

Her words felt like shocks to your chest. You held onto the helmet with a tight grip, staring into the center of it as you tried to push back tears of sentiment. You would not cry on what should be a happy day. The day you are to earn your freedom has finally come, with new people and a blossom of affection that could bloom into the strongest love if tended.

“It was very thoughtful of all of you to do this,” you say in a brief whisper. “Shall I wear it now?”

Gold gestured for you to do so, looking at you tenderly from behind her own golden helmet.

Yours fit snuggly around your head. It didn’t feel uncomfortable in the least with the padding on the inside of it. You felt around the inside which brushes your cheek, looking for the button that Gen had spoken of.

When you pressed it, the screen shot downward silently, and you could see the world the way other Mandalorians did. The image is crystal clear. Nearly enhanced. You could even hear yourself breathing through the modulator, the sound the very same as everyone else’s.

“This is for you to keep,” Gold says as she waves something at you. You go towards the stove’s counter. The pair of gloves she holds in her hands fit tightly over your fingers. On the inside, over the palm of your dominant hand, is a button. “Each helmet has certain modes for certain environments. Yours is equipped with heat signatures, night vision, and aim.”

Each click of the button took you through the three modes. Aim is by far your favorite. It focused on the item or person you wanted it to through patient staring, the screen highlighting your target.

You pressed the button again, taking you once more to the normal screen.

“Thank you,” you said, breathless. You are at a loss for words. “I’m not sure what to say…”

From her position against the door, Wendi whistled to get your attention. “Say nothing. That’s preferable.”

You exhaled a heavy sigh, which came off as a hiss through the modulator.

“There is one more thing for you to wear,” Nyra says before Wendi can continue the banter. In her hands she weighed back and forth a plain necklace, the charm being a heavy oval of metal. You pulled it over your head, leaving it to rest against your breast plate. “Typically,” Gold explains, “the signet of your spouse is printed on the necklace. However, Din has yet to receive one. Until then your necklace will be blank, but that is no excuse-always wear it with pride.”

“I will,” you swear.

Gen put a hand over your shoulder, looking to you with what you imagined to be excitement. “Would you like to look in the mirror?” she asked.

Breaking out of the furnace in your Mandalorian garb felt unreal. You’d never once imagined this would be your life. Marrying Din, wearing the helmet, the armor.

The full length mirror in an unused room not far from the furnace showed you the image of a young woman who has only known the life of fire and glory. You were not that woman, you know it, and you feel guilt pull your heart down into your stomach as you tell yourself you are unworthy to wear the Mandalorian uniform.

Trembling in your armor you dare to contradict yourself. What you were before does not matter, and it likely won’t ever matter again.

Today, tomorrow, and the next, you will be Din Djarren’s wife-and by legality, a Mandalorian.

No one would want to touch you, then. Who would dare to pick a fight with a Mandalorian? A Jedi, who are but legends and stories?

“Are you ready?” Wendi asked from the doorway.

“I think so,” you say. It’s difficult to catch a steady breath under all of this pressure that’s suddenly coming down on you.

“It’s exhilarating, right?” she asked. “The first time you wear the helmet. You either think you’re not worthy or you become too egotistical about it. Ryder was egotistic. Paz was all depressed. I’m sure you can guess me. But Din? I’ll never know. No one will, besides you. So do me a favor once you two are...official.”

You tilted your head, silently asking her what she meant.

She laughed. “Get that guy to relax a bit.”

The aisle is less of an aisle and more of a general area for you to walk through. There are many Mandalorians in tow, all cast aside to the corners of the room as they watched you appear. You hadn’t realized how many Mandalorians lived in the covert until you were seeing them. Parents held their children by the shoulders; little girls cooed and boys gawked at the armor that plated your body.

Din waited for you at the end of your makeshift aisle. He wore standard armor but bore no weapons; weaponless Din seemed awkward to look at. He probably felt as awkward as you do.

There is no priest or council member standing between you and Din.

“Take off on glove,” Din says softly. You’re certain you’re the only one who can hear him.

Where your hands trembled, his were calm as the sea before a storm. Upon revealing to the audience two bare hands, there was a sudden outcry of happiness; applause. It had made you flinch at first but you could pick out the whoops of victory.

“Just look at me,” Din whispers again. He held his bare hand to you, and you gripped it for dear life. “And now,” he says, “repeat after me.”

His voice declared the Mandalorian vows perfectly. He was born to speak Mando’a, his voice a perfect marble depiction of the words and their value.

“Mhi solus tohme,” Din says clearly.

You did your best. Mando’a is a difficult language, you realized once you were expected to say it loud enough without messing up. “M-Mhi solus tohme.”

“That means, ‘we are one when we are together,’” Din translates. “Mhi solus dar’tohme.”

“Mhi solus dar’tohme.”

“We are one when apart. And now, mhi me'dinui an. Mhi ba'juri verde. We will share everything. We will raise warriors.”

Your affection for Din snapped, releasing it’s full force within your chest as your heart beat painfully. “Mhi me’dinui an. Mhi ba’juri verde.”

As soon as you’d spoken those words, the crowd went into an uproar of laughter and applause. Music started to play from some corner of the room, Mandalorians playing mandolins and flutes.

You had to reach out for Din to keep steady on your feet. “That was anticlimactic,” you said over the chaos.

He caught you swiftly, holding you upright by your forearms. “We aren’t done just yet, mesh’la.”

Vaguely wondering what that meant you followed after Din as he took you across the room, through the crowd and to a table that had been set for a proper meeting. Paz in one chair, Gold in another-and the court guardian Din hadn’t killed just between them.

Din pulled the chair out for you. “Thank you,” you muttered, unsure if he could even hear it above the party.

Now that you both faced the guardian, you reapplied your gloves.

“I hope that was to your satisifaction,” you snubbed. Something about being face to face with a man who had been in league with your abusers made you very angry. It might be valid, it might not be. You don’t care. You could just remember the feeling of taking one of their lives, and you felt less uneasy.

The guardian gestured his hands carefully; his wrists are bound by thick chains he could not break, but you still felt as if you had to be on guard.

“It was a beautiful ceremony, ma’am,” he promises. “As much,” he continued, in a rapid stutter, “as I wish it was enough, it was not. There is more.”

Paz pushed forward a few papers with lots and lots of words on them. You could sound out one of the pages; one was a Mandalorian paper, with your name and Din’s at the bottom. Gold passed over a dagger. “It must be signed.”

Din sighed, once more pulling off his glove. He pricked his finger over the tip of the dagger and pressed it like a stamp by his name. The blade is then passed to you. You did the same, feeling less confident and wincing, but stamping your bloody fingerprint by your own name.

Din gently took your hand and gestured for you to tick your wounded finger out. He pressed both fingertips together so the blood mixed, and you both stamped again in the very center.

It was poetic, in a way, but it still made you frown.

“And now?” you ask as you nurse your finger with a cloth napkin.

“Marriage vows,” Paz explains. “But they must be written out.”

You looked absolutely floundered. “I thought there wasn’t a need for marriage vows,” you said loudly.

“Not for a Mandalorian wedding,” Gold explains. “But the council wants a marriage by their own terms. This is what they want.”

Din took an ink pen and a blank parchment paper. “I understand,” he murmurs as he leans over the page, starting to write.

You shot Paz a look. What would you do? Could you ask him to write it for you?

Paz shook his head. “I’m sorry, Y/n. Just do your best. It’s not a test or something we are judging you on.”

You took a pen in your hand. It weighed heavy and felt uncomfortable all tugged against the small joints of your fingers.

You put the tip down to the paper, a large blot forming on the page. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what to do. It’s nerve wracking for a long minute. Under the music you peered at Din’s paper. He had a lot already.

“Kriff,” you swear to yourself. You started writing carefully.

A large “I” in the center of the page. You’d chosen the wrong spot to start with, but you couldn’t go back. You finished up terribly slow, walking yourself through each word many times to ensure you wouldn’t make a spelling mistake. The end product wasn’t much. But it worked:

I

WILL

LOVE

HIM

You signed your name at the bottom. You passed the page to Gold, quick enough that Din wouldn’t be able to see it.

“We’re done, then,” Gold says confidently once she has Din’s paper. “You are officially married.”

You dropped the pen with a breath of relief. “Thank goodness,” you muttered.

“Ah, ori’jate,” Paz murmurs as he looks through the papers. “Y/n and Din. Congratulations, from the bottom of my heart. Kandosii! I am off to make proper copies of your certificates. Then, we will be sending them, along with our friend, here, back to where he came from. Have a wonderful rest of your evening.”

Paz pulled the guardian up to his feet, dragging him along to wherever they would be going to make their copies. You looked at Gold timidly. “Now, what?”

“Now, I go to my room and have a wonderful night’s sleep,” Gold says. “You’re officially free, Y/n,” she says. “My congratulations. Enjoy the rest of your night, both of you.”

As Gold disappeared into the party, you and Din sat shoulder to shoulder, unbearably still for a long time. You both sat and listened to four songs come and go. He wouldn’t muster the strength to speak up or move, and you simply couldn’t.

As the seventh song started, Din threw down the napkin he’d been using to nurse his finger. He slipped his glove back on and stood. “Would you like dinner?”

You accepted his offered hand, using it to stand to your feet. You agreed, though not hungry at all.

You secretly felt grateful for the visor that separated you from the vivacious party.

At the large table of food, several people congratulated you. You met and shook hands with Mandalorians you would likely never meet again.

Din thanked everyone in that low-key way of his; you might have found it charming if it didn’t intimidate you to your core. He filled up a basket, which he’d grabbed from some other table, with enough food to keep your room stocked for two days.

A little girl tugged at Din’s leg. “Din, Din!” she exclaimed. “Please take some uj! I helped Mam make it, and I even tasted it before her! It’s very delicious.”

Din knelt down to speak to her. “It looks amazing, Aiya. I will make sure to have plenty. Thank you.”

Aiya grabbed at Din’s shoulders to tug him closer so they could touch foreheads. “Have fun, Din,” Aiya’s mother laughed. “You as well, Y/n. Welcome to our family.”

Ah.

Family.

An interesting word. Not the word you would have used too loosely. You suppose Aiya and her mother have the privilege to throw the term around. You, on the other hand, were not a four year old girl; you never had a real family to call your own. Now that you’ve found Din, you were not going to soil the word ‘family’ by addressing any stranger with it.

The hall stretched fearfully beyond you as you and Din set course for the bedroom.

You hoped you weren’t breathing as loud as you think you are. You’d become conscious of it; you manually pumped your lungs out, just to have something to focus on. Your insides just felt like a jumble, like the color grey. You didn’t have a clear input on anything, anymore. Since the ceremony, everything has been vivid to the point it seemed unreal.

The clicking of your boots aligned with Din’s, the paces being set by the rhythm of your heart. It felt like you’d ran from the hall to Din’s bedroom.

Din opened up the door and gestured for you to go in first. It wasn’t as if you could yell “NO” and run away. Besides--that’s not what you want to do.

Din sets the basket down on one of the armchairs.

“Are you alright?” he asks you.

“I am,” you answered.

“Would you like to eat?” Din asked, gesturing his arm to the basket.

With your heart racing, you pulled off your glove and your helmet. “I’m not very hungry,” you admit as you look for a place to set the helmet down.

“I usually leave mine on one of the chairs,” Din murmured. You did that, filled with unease.

“You weren’t kidding about tradition,” you noted. “It was all very...traditional.” “Overwhelming?” Din guessed what you actually meant.

You faltered out a smile. “Honestly, yes. I thought I would die from shame if I ruined the vows bit.”

“You did very good,” Din said, as if he’d been praising your performance. “I was impressed, at least.”

You coughed on a laugh. He really is quite awkward underneath all of that armor and intensity. And speaking of armor, you realized that the next step on this night is to see his face. “Well...are you hungry?” you asked.

Din struggled to find a good place to stand. His overflow of shuddering fear flooded the room to its edges.

He would not come to you, you realized, so you would have to come to him. You unlaced your boots while he watched. Numb fingers peeled away at the laces and leather as you kicked the shoes away.

All Din seems to ever do is watch you intensely. With brown eyes, no doubt. You know that for sure. His eyes are brown.

With the floor uneven as you walked his way, you brought your mind to one thought.

The color brown.

There are several shades. Several ways brown could be beautiful. Many of the girls who had been in the servant ranks had brown eyes, and you’d known ever since then that brown eyes were, and always would be, undeniably beautiful.

His eyes could be brown like a piece of smokey quartz, dark and mysterious with its shadows.

His eyes could be lighter, like topaz, a warm pool of late sunshine.

His eyes could be almost golden, like amber, like sweet honey.

Your hands, now bare, reached out for the helmet. You half expected resistance; maybe Din would have second thoughts?

However, there was none. There would never be any, you realized, now that you two had married.

You slid your fingers beneath the helmet, finding the soft skin of his jaw. Smooth, you note, so that’s a no on the facial hair.

“I shaved,” Din answered your silent question. You smiled in response.

You took no more hazarding chances. It was time. You could feel it. You want it, and it’s very close.

You lift the helmet, standing on your toes to do so, and Din’s face becomes revealed to you in the matter of a split second.

Brown eyes.

Darker, brown eyes. You could have guessed that. They match the sound of his voice. And his skin is as though he were made by the sun.

There is a line of hair just over his top lip, a thicker mustache that made him look ever angry. You touched the tip of his nose, then his chin, then his cheeks.

“You’re very handsome,” you tell him in the gentlest voice you could summon. You doubt you could speak any louder right now. The beauty of him has you breathless, again, and at a loss for any other words.

Calling him handsome is a real understatement. He’s unlike any person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“I don’t get that a lot, believe it or not,” Din mutters. He holds your hand that cradles his face. “I want to kiss you.”

Shocked by his words, you stared into his eyes with a gaping mouth. No one had ever said such things to you. You’ve never felt such an affect; warmth like honey and butter that slid down your chest and thighs as one of Din’s thumbs slowly brushed over your lower lip.

The hand that cradles your chin lifted up, and the tender feeling of Din’s mouth overtook yours.

He smelled the same as his leather jacket. Soap, a smoky summer’s day, and all of him.

Your chest plates clattered as Din carefully pulled you closer.

You were startled as his tongue poked through your lips, but the sensation that came with it left you gaping, a perfect opportunity for Din’s tongue to trace the crevices of your mouth. His lips felt like a drug. You couldn’t believe you’ve lived without kissing until now, as an adult. Now that you’ve felt it you never want to live without it again.

It seemed like a skill. You could easily stand there and fade into the euphoria, but you could not swish your tongue and lips like he could without feeling like a wild mudhorn cleaning himself.

When Din became breathless, he pulled away, but his hand still fiercely attached to your face.

You gasped for air.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the first night we spent together,” Din rasps. “Watching you...in the small shirt...and you were fawning over me. I wanted you badly.”

Your face burned fiercely at the words. You’d never have speculated…! Sputtering for a reply, you wrapped your arms over the shoulder plates of Din’s armor. “You have a good way of hiding your feelings,” you tell him with a shake of your head.

Din’s hands fell to your hips, which he squeezed as he shook his head with a smile. It was shocking. You felt yourself become stunned at the prospect of a simple smile, of a half laugh whisping from his lips.

What affection you’d felt for him before burst into a blossoming flower, delicate but beautiful.

“I can’t believe how handsome you are,” you say.

Din sighs. “I really don’t know what I’ll do if you keep on saying that.”

You blushed at the tips of your ears. “I-I mean we should-right?”

Din’s mouth twitched at the idea you’d prodded for the first time all day. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says in a dark voice.

“Why?” You weren’t ‘disappointed’ but you were confused.

“I shouldn’t force this onto you,” he said. “It’s enough you’ve married me. We can save that for another night.”

Ah. His chivalry strikes again. You shake your head. “What if I had been looking forward to it?” you prodded.

Din grabbed your chin once more and kissed, this time harder than before. “I told you already,” he rasps. “I don’t like being teased.”

Knees shaking, face burning, you looked into Din’s eyes with a wide smile. “Alright.”

According to Din then, helping each other out of the armor is customary for the wedding night. Din took this opportunity to teach you how to disassemble, then reassemble, armor on your own.

Beneath the armor you were not naked. You still had your sheer dress, and Din had his trousers and fitted tunic. The necklace stayed on, the pendant hanging at your chest. You’d declined Din’s prompt to remove it.

Guiding you to the bed to sit, Din placed more kisses over your face. Propping yourself onto your knees, you watched Din eagerly while he untied his own boots. His helmet got placed next to yours. Shoes, next to yours. He climbed into the bed with the basket of food in hand.

You reached for the first piece of cheese you found.

“What do we do now that we’re properly married?” you asked.

Din caught your wrist and guided the cheese to his mouth, where he then took a huge bite of your food. Through a grin, Din shrugged. “Get to know one another, I’d say,” he prompts.

It went back and forth from then on. He asked questions about your childhood, and you’d give mostly depressing answers. You explained to him the in depth details of life in the servant ranks. You’d been born into it by a servant girl who was impregnated while unmarried. You were born, only to have your mother executed hours after. You’d never known her, so it didn’t feel truly sad at first look. Though the more you thought about it, the more sinking realizations settled in your mind.

Din reminisced his story of how he’d lost his family. He’d been rescued by a Mandalorian group under the name of Death Watch. The story was long and intricate. You were mesmerized by Din’s story, by the way his mouth moved when he spoke and said certain words. You were deeply embedded into the story. The history of Death Watch had been explained in thorough detail by your husband. It had once been a group of heroic warriors, dedicated to protecting and upholding the Way.

Paz and Ryder’s father had been a strong part of it.

Everything changed with the rise of the Empire.

Death Watch had been seized by a man who sought the powers of a sith lord. And that had only been the start of the end of Mandalore.

Din managed to escape most damage by moving along with his covert. He was one of the lucky ones.

After his story, he asked you more questions. Life among the ranks; friends; memorable stories. You told him everything. You’d witnessed many defectors become dragged by the hair to the red circle. Often times, servants were gathered to watch as their sister was executed. It was meant to be a lesson learnt.

You didn’t learn it.

Neither did your friend Vidia.

You’d not spoken Vidia’s name aloud in many years, so sharing her story to Din moved you to deep tears that trickled down your face before you stopped them. She lived on through the stories you told. Her mischief, the way she could ease any girl’s worry; and, of course, the time she tried to defect. She tried so hard. She almost succeeded. She’d organized a revolt against the council with the other older girls. It almost worked.

But they were all caught and killed.

You learned from her death that life on Aniri would never get better; from then, you’d watch the ways of the palace and plot. You were going to escape, for Vidia, at first. Then you’d decided you would escape for you.

While the time passed between you, all in between the smaller questions like favorite colors and first kisses (yours had been with Din, and he was happy for it), you both ate happily from the basket.

When he was ready for bed, Din rolled off the mattress. He set the basket up and you could only watch with burning cheeks as he pulled out of his tunic. He folded it up and pushed it into the wardrobe.

He found a tin can and popped something from it into his mouth. He offered you the tin. You tested the waters with a lick to the tablets.

“Are these mints?” you demanded.

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

Mints were high quality on Aniri! You expressed this to him with a wide smile. “I never thought I would have one...I never thought I’d have this sort of life,” you added as you chewed the mint. You scrambled to get under the blankets as Din approached the bed with a thoughtful smile on his mouth. You tried your absolute hardest not to look. You couldn’t really help it. You’d never seen a shirtless person before. It was intoxicating how amazing Din looked. His stomach is well sculpted, his shoulders wide and strong, and his collarbones had an intense effect on you.

Din shut out the lights on his way to bed. He shifted around, pulling the blankets over himself as well. It didn’t take long for you to reach out for one another. As soon as your eyes had adjusted, Din reached out for you. He pulled you by the waist so you were aligned with his torso. Your dress ruffled up against your thighs as you laid there, being kissed and becoming dizzy. There wasn’t much you could do. You didn’t know how to do anything.

You could only do as your body reacted, which was to push up against his bare skin as much as you could manage. You spread out one of your legs, wrapping over Din’s hips so your thigh pressed into him.

You gasped into his mouth as his calloused hand ran over your thigh, up very high to where you could something happening. Something interesting, really. Something definitely new.

“You should ask me to stop,” Din grumbles against your neck. His lips had puckered over your quick pulse, sucking and biting at the skin that had never once been touched before.

“S-stop,” you breathed as you pulled his face back up. You pressed your mouth against his. Trying your hand at kissing back felt messy. It felt sloppy. But Din didn’t seem to mind all that much.

He yanked you closer. “Do you mean it?” he asked you in a rough voice.

“Not really,” you giggled.

Your leg that is cast over his hips got pulled at. He seemed to stretch it out wider so he could run his hand way up beneath your black dress.

His thumb passed over your wet center and you trembled against his chest.

“What was that?” you exclaimed, struggling to catch your breath.

Din looked down at you through the darkness. “This?” he asked. His thumb pressed on that one spot again and you gasped loudly. “What is that?” you asked again.

“Something I can easily stop if you asked me to,” Din says firmly. You gripped onto his bicep as you shook your head. “I do not want that,” you quickly say.

Din chuckled. He pressed another kiss to your mouth as he moved his thumb in small circles. You grabbed onto Din for your utter life. You recalled the feeling of being thrown around the Razor Crest while Din navigated you to safety. This feeling is very similar, but in a way you couldn’t possibly put into words. It’s warm, fuzzy, but it makes your blood run cold in your veins. The feeling has you breathing hard and clinging onto Din, tugging on his messy, brown hair.

And just as soon as it had started, there was a gigantic wave of euphoria that passed over you. Something burst inside your stomach. It was like the feeling had reached its peak and then ended.

You shuddered against Din’s torso, still reeling from the experience. You breathed hard, muttering his name over and over. “How,” you asked, “did you do that?”

Din laughed. The sound rumbled through his chest, low and baritone. He slides his arm up your dress and around to the small of your back. He tugs you closer to his grasp. “It’s a Mandalorian secret,” he tells you.

“Would you do it again?” you asked.

Din laughed. He rolled over you, pressing you into the pillows as he looked down at you through the darkness. In the silence you could hear that the party still raved on in the meeting hall.

“I could. But I won’t.”  You gripped at his hair, lips puckered in a desperate attempt to kiss him some more. “Why?” you gasped. “I told you, mesh’la,” Din mutters. He kisses your lips once; it’s softer, gentler, and it eases you to comply with the cuddling hug Din rolls you into. “I don’t like being teased.”

>>read next chapter NOW

[samtheflamingomain]

false crime

This has been bothering me ever since I got into the True Crime genre and I think I just understood why. I’m very, very much of the mindset that “if there are 10 bad cops and 1000 good cops, there are 1010 bad cops.”

But then I watch a 4 hour interrogation of a child rapist and I see what I’ll call, for lack of a better term, “good, honest police work”. Obviously I know that these exact same techniques are, daily, used to corner vulnerable people into giving false confessions.

So, knowing that lying is an inherent part of the job of nailing the really sick fucks, I’ve realized that every time a cop lies, I automatically try to categorize the lie.

Omitting the illegal (denying a right to silence or attorney), I’ve found a few different types of lies: “Totally fine” (something like “I don’t think you’re a monster” to a child rapist to get them to talk), “Iffy but I’ll give it a pass”, “too far”, and “only in this exact scenario and with perfect hindsight” - and it’s really only this last category that I have trouble with. Let’s quickly go through the others. “Iffy” can be something as simple as “another witness said X happened” when they didn’t, or as complex as the simple-SOUNDING, “I can help you if you talk” - that’s illegal in the States, but not in Canada.

I was watching a documentary yesterday that was interrogation-focused. I knew at one point the officer was straight up lying, and in a way I deemed, in my mind, “too far”. He lied about jurisprudence and how court proceedings work. 

I’ve seen them lie to a guy about “well your hair was at the scene” and it wasn’t, but I tend to see that as actually LESS morally ambiguous, because either the guy’s guilty and the REAL evidence will show that, or he’s innocent, and being told “your hair was in a place that it’s physically impossible to be” would stir a strong denial, not “Uhh I dunno what to tell you....”

See, when cops lie about things like procedure and what their rights are? That can, and absolutely does, lead to false convictions. Google “I think I want a lawyer, dawg”. A man said that and cops decided that was him saying that he literally “wants a lawyer DOG”. Technically not what I’m talking about, but along the same lines as lying.

But then, today I saw the documentary that made me pause and say to myself, “is my love for watching criminals get what they deserve (true crime) truly irreconcilable with the fact that I think cops are largely trash?” Here’s how it went.

“Jennifer’s Solution” - basically Jennifer Pan’s entire 11-hour police interview is played. She literally resides in the women’s prison in my hometown. I live closer to her than to my best friend - but I’d never heard of the case at the time.

At one point, the interrogating officer informs Pan that there exists something I’ll call “thermal spying”. This is what he says, almost verbatim: “Y’know, we... we have the ability, y’know, from an aerial satellite (?), to scan for heat, for human bodies, in a house. And we can... go back to that night (??) and see, y’know, if the bodies are in, y’know, certain positions, at, at certain times.” He basically says that, according to this “technology”, the story she told about how exactly a “home robbery gone wrong” wasn’t adding up.

This, to me, is in that last category. In my mind, to say something so blatantly ridiculous, something that can make or break their entire story, only works if the officer already knows with 100% certainty that Pan is guilty of murder. 

Like, if you were a serial killer writing to the cops asking if floppy disks can be traced, they say “no”, and you’re a big enough idiot to believe that and send them one, that’s on you. And that exact scenario is on a man called Dennis Rader. 

But after 11 hours, if I was a bit more naiive, I’d probably believe something along those lines. It doesn’t sound completely impossible. And if you believe that and it leads to a confession (which wasn’t entirely truly the case for Pan; she was already in it pretty deep by this point), that, I believe, is miscarriage of justice. Who knows how many times that exact cop told suspects of this magical technology and got confessions from innocent people who thought cops had cornered them somehow, when they actually didn’t know dick?

I eventually decided that, because there as a shitload of other evidence and there’s no way she wasn’t going to jail that day, honestly, no harm was done to the justice system in that exact scenario only. Basically, “this person is definitely guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, AND, the lie didn’t end up being the pivotal piece of evidence against her”. 

And I called it a day, said I can live with that, and just like that, almost instantly, the nagging feeling of “ACAB, how dare you praise the man that single-handedly spent 8h in a room with this child rapist, knows they’re guilty, and sets them up for the inevitable consequences of their actions with raw intelligence, stamina and skill?” With some huge caveats, that’s how.

Honestly, it’s not a great answer, but like most aspects of the law, very rarely do we get black or white instead of grey. So, for now, it’s the one I’m going with.

Stay Greater.

[alwayysmichael]

Michael Jackson and me.

I was a boy in Michael Jackson’s life, and nothing of what he’s being accused of in this documentary happened...

I wanted to write and post this before Leaving Neverland premiered at Sundance last Friday. After all, I had a close relationship with Michael Jackson growing up and nothing of what he continues to be accused of has ever happened to me. I decided to wait because I was curious to see if the film would get any wings considering Wade Robson’s volatile and unsuccessful claims against Michael Jackson in the past. Sure, let him tell his story again. Truth and justice will prevail as they have. Soon after it premiered, I quickly Googled “leaving neverland” to discover news articles stating that the four-hour documentary received a standing ovation. In disbelief, I searched the hashtag on Instagram to see Story footage from the theater and there they were — Wade Robson, James Safechuck and the film’s director Dan Reed — on stage in front of an applauding audience at their feet. I’m not sure if the audience was doing so because they were perceived as survivors making a public appearance, or if the film was actually good in their eyes, or both; but all I could think about was that their strategy, unfortunately, worked.

Raising awareness about child abuse and providing a safe community for others to speak their truth is vital, but using Michael Jackson as a vehicle to do so is simply wrong. In order for any story to be valid, there has to be an element of trust and I do not trust the people associated with this film. Let’s be clear: Michael Jackson showed up. He faced public interviews, he answered difficult-to-stomach questions, he agreed to interrogative documentaries, he withstood a 10-year FBI investigation, and he appeared in an eighteen-month criminal trial until he was acquitted having been found not guilty on all fourteen child molestation and abuse-related accounts. The fact that twelve years of criminal investigations and government legal proceedings can be completely overruled by the media due to a manipulation of the same stories once told before by a select few, especially by those who were initially on the defense, is deeply concerning. Maybe even horrifying.

I haven’t seen the documentary, but it “focuses on two men… who allege they were sexually abused by the pop star Michael Jackson as children” (Wikipedia). Everyone is entitled to his/her/their story and I believe that each story should be told in truth to the best of his/her/their ability, but my issue with Leaving Neverland is the heavy reliance on one side, especially when that one side is comprised of only two people. On top of it all, those two people happen to know each other. So what we have is a product comprised of two acquaintances’ stories who were in Michael’s life as boys that has been glorified in a 236-minute documentary. Remember that the film would mark Robson’s second attempt to tell his story. He told the same, truncated version of his story publicly in 2013 and simultaneously filed suit against the Michael Jackson Estate, which the court later dismissed. This was eight years after he testified twice under oath explicitly stating that Michael did nothing wrong during a criminal trial in which the jury delivered a verdict of not guilty. It’s clear that this film’s intention is to position Michael as a child predator, but I find that the entire Leaving Neverland saga is really, in turn, a predation on a man of power and wealth now almost 10 years dead and thereby defenseless.

I was part of Michael’s life from the day I was born in 1987 until 2001. The last time I was literally close to him was backstage at the Staples Center when his casket wheeled past me. I knew him well because my mother, Janet Zeitoun, his sole hairstylist during the time, knew him even better. One could say that they might as well have been siblings. In fact, my mother was one of the few non-family members invited to the private memorial service at the cemetery hours before the public one in Downtown LA. Michael felt so comfortable with my mother because she made him laugh unlike anyone else, let alone the fact that she’s incredible at her craft. Michael even said in writing that she’s the “Michelangelo of hair.”

From the 80s, 90s and early 2000s, my mother has been around the globe with Michael. She’s been by his side doing his hair on sets, in dressing rooms, backstage at his concerts, at his home, on planes, in hotel rooms, in cars, and yes, even at Neverland. When my mom was pregnant with me in ‘86, Michael told her that she’d be having a boy; and on the day of my birth, Michael sent a limo to our home filled with gifts. And from then on, my single, hard-working mother who wanted to spend as much time with me as she could often brought me to work with her. So I grew up on the sets of Michael’s music videos, I played with my toys on the floor of his dressing rooms, and he sometimes came over to our house to get his hair done. As I got a bit older and could walk on my own two feet, I became the boy responsible for making sure Michael got candy in between some of his concert rehearsal sets. Michael would make everyone stop and patiently wait for me to wobble my way on stage to him. I even remember singing “I Just Can’t Wait to be King” to him in his trailer (so embarrassing!) but he gave me his undivided attention and smiled. I went to Neverland, several times of which Michael was there and he gave us the full tour of his home. I remember my favorite golf cart to get around had a Peter Pan emblem on it. I remember his movie theater concession stand being filled with candy that you could go behind the counter and take to watch whatever movie you wanted. I remember riding the big steam engine train that would take you from one end of the ranch to the other. I remember a big pot-bellied pig named Petunia and that I could name a newborn deer and rabbit. I chose Cuddie and Thumper, respectively; original, I know, but Michael loved the names.

Unlike Robson or Safechuck, I wasn’t in the public eye with Michael. The only sort of public thing that happened was him publishing a photo of us in the centerfold of his 1995 tour book. Fourteen years later, the caretaker of his children recognized me backstage at the Staples Center during his memorial service and told me that the photograph was one of Michael’s favorites, and at the time in 2009 was still framed on his grand piano in Neverland.I remember leaving Neverland a happy kid who couldn’t wait to go back. 

I remember telling my mom that I wanted to have another birthday party there or that I wanted to hang out with Michael again at the ranch. The bulk of my experience with Michael was during the 90s right when the FBI investigation began on account of child molestation allegations. Knowing that this was happening and that these charges were set against him, I don’t think my protective and well-aware mother would’ve allowed me to continue hanging around Michael or head up to Neverland had she not trusted him.

I firmly believe Michael did no wrong. You don’t have to take my word for it, though; know that his truth was proven in a court of law. The stories being presented in Leaving Neverland are incredibly one-sided. This film is merely the Wade Robson & James Safechuck Story because I, too, remember leaving Neverland, as does my mother, and as do many people in his life who’d be glad to have a say in a film so generically titled; now wrongfully entitled to depict Michael’s life and his misunderstood relationship with children. Any credible director of a documentary seeking truth on the matter would do his/her/their due diligence and present the full story from a carefully chosen and meaningful variety of sources. With four hours of film time to spare, I’m sure there could have been room. This is why I’m deeply disappointed in HBO and Channel 4 UK for picking it up with plans to air it later this spring. The networks snagged a falsity and will be responsible for disseminating a poorly researched film based on the highly skewed opinions of a select few that many of its subscribers will conclude as true.

Leaving Neverland is connecting because Robson and Safechuck’s well-acted stories are similar to those of true survivors watching the film. It’s a smart, yet corrupt way to capitalize on an entire community’s vulnerabilities. It’s also connecting because their stories are bolstered with a compelling medium to tell them as well as an accredited establishment like Sundance to premiere it. It’s riding the wave of an important #MeToo and #TimesUp movement, and it poorly validates a shortsighted equation that many people think they already have the answer to: Michael Jackson plus always being around children must equal child molester. The result? A byproduct of lies smeared with a thin layer of credibility intended to enrage the general media and side with self-proclaimed victims. And because the people behind these forms of media have a following (or not), perhaps they’re employed by some “greater” masthead and their information is muffled with journalists who actually seek the truth, the general population slowly becomes convinced, valuing information by ease of access which has really been served to them by algorithms designed to showcase what individuals only want to see. This is where destruction escalates. This is where the snowball gains its mass. This is why I’m stepping in with my story now.

I urge you to make it your undying responsibility to seek truth and acknowledge all sides in your consumption of how Michael is being depicted in this film. The capitalization of circumstance, divisive use of content and manipulation of media — all combined with rising false senses of entitlement — can quickly nullify a verdict and forever challenge truth to favor the other. This is the loophole with our digital ecosystem that actually determines one’s fate and this is the precise mechanism Leaving Neverland is using, especially when money is at stake. It will ultimately destroy his family, defame his legacy and eradicate his artistry. If you think this little loophole won’t take it that far, well, for starters: it’s already killed Michael Jackson.

Michael signed a letter to me on Neverland letterhead once. It read: “from your protective and older brother, Michael Jackson.” Now I find it my turn to protect him by telling my story because I solemnly swear that this kind-hearted, genius-of-a-man is innocent. I probably would have known otherwise. -  Talun Zeitoun

[sunshineandfangs]

A Crown For The Sword

Sequel to yesterday’s prompt. The tale of the Princess and Her Knight continues. Features more Klaroline and the promised happy ending!

Her Majesty was radiant and fierce from her seat upon her throne. In the years he had known her he had seen her soft, silken beauty and her iron will both. Witnessed the shrewd, cunning of her mind. She would be a magnificent Queen he had no doubt.

Thus, he could stand solidly before her, weather the accusations aimed at him. Perhaps it would be his death, but even execution would fall so sweetly from her lips. And if her Will was for him to die, then he would take each of her enemies with him.

As was his duty as her knight.

The resolution seared into his very soul, and his gaze flicked to the visage of the man beside Her Majesty. That wretched cur. It had been his mistake to regard Lockwood as little more than a foolish and arrogant little lordling. Titles that worm also deserved, but he had missed that he was a snake as well, one with venom in its bite.

How he would delight in his downfall.

“Sir Niklaus.” He shifted slightly, his gaze switching from their surroundings to Her Highness.

She was resplendent in blue and gold, her silhouette as graceful as the blooms surrounding her. But an air of unease hung about her and in her gloved palm she cupped a withered blossom. Her fingers traced the wilted edges of the purple crocus, a slight frown on her face.*

“Does something trouble you, Your Highness?”

She said nothing for several moments, her lashes fluttering as her eyes fell shut in a faint grimace. He stepped forward before he could consciously think to, concern a tight fist in his chest.

“I am alright,” she declared as he came to a stop by her side. “It is rather daft of me to be so superstitious.” The flower fell from her hand as she straightened up, offering him a small smile as she turned toward him.

His own voice was solemn as he replied, though he knew his eyes were soft. “Daft? Never, Your Highness. Your intuition is as keen as your mind.” He shifted slightly, reaching around to pluck a honeysuckle hanging behind her.** He moved slowly, knowing his gesture was not particularly appropriate, but she just watched him, a more genuine smile curling on her lips. He tucked the blossom behind her ear. “No matter where you lead I shall follow. I am yours, Your Highness.”

His hand fell away just as her’s rose to brush at the flower. The slightest trace of pink flushed across her cheeks before her expression shifted to something a bit more melancholy.

He parted his lips to say something to her, dismayed by any trace of her sorrow. But his words stuttered to a halt as her palm came up to cradle his face. The soft fabric of her glove tickled his skin as her thumb caressed his cheekbone. He could not help the way he leaned into her touch nor the way his own hand rose to cover her’s.

“My loyal knight,” she murmured, seeming to be talking more to herself than him. “Sometimes I wish you were a bit less devoted. For your sake.”

He had not understood her words then. Stunned into silence as she retreated into the caste, he at her heels.

It had become more clear to him later when the Lockwoods and their entourage arrived. Her recent betrothed. A handsome and wealthy man giggled the maid servants. A powerful boon to the kingdom whispered the Court.

He had doubted any man was worthy of Her Highness and the Lockwood heir did nothing to sway his impression. But he did his duty and stood guard at Her Highness’ back, prepared to arrange a tragic accident should she ever require it of him.

Thus, it was a twisting blade in his chest the first time she addressed him as “Sir Mikaelson” instead of “Sir Niklaus.” Cold, distance seeped into their every interaction and drove the blade deeper each time. He thought he had failed her somehow, and it was with hurt confusion that he wondered about her occasional gentle touch. Glimpses of the past that grew increasingly foreign to him.

And then he understood. The poor page boy deserved better than a public whipping and dismissal from the castle. He agreed that Her Highness was above anyone else in the land, but not even he would take such harsh measures against a callow youth. A slight stutter and a blush from a boy not yet ten and four could be expected even, when said boy first encounters a woman such as Her Highness.

Such thoughts made his wound ache anew. Her dismissal had hurt him.Yet his confirmed failure hurt him more. What a useless knight he was, that he burdened Her Highness as she acted to protect him.

“Your Highness?” He intoned as he knocked at her chamber door. Had it been so long ago that he would have stood with her beyond that door?

“Enter.” Her voice was flat, missing familiar inflections.

She did not look up as he strode in, focused instead on sealing several parchments with wax and her insignia. She placed a few of them away, some in compartments of her desk and others in storage chests. The rest she bundled into a pile on her desk and at last looked up at him.

“You are far above the duties of a page.” She hesitated for a split second, her fingers tracing the cooled wax of the seal, before adding, “Sir Niklaus.” He jolted, hearing his name from her lips for the first time in what seemed an eternity. “And yet those are the duties I task you with this day, for I trust no other the way I trust you.”

The words were a balm to his soul. At last he could once more do something useful for Her Highness.

And if he carried out his orders with perhaps inappropriate fervor no one need know.

Her voice cut through his thoughts.

“You stand accused of sedition and conspiracy. Endangerment of the lives of the citizens of the Realm. Aid to an assault on the royal family. Allegiance with those who murdered my father, His Majesty King William II. How do you answer these charges, ...Lord Lockwood?”

Her Majesty turned her head only enough to aim her severe expression at the stunned lord beside her. What had been poorly concealed smugness turned quickly to shock and then outrage.

“Caroline,” he spluttered ignoring the shift in the atmosphere of the room, as baleful eyes fell upon him. “What is the meaning of this?!”

Her Majesty was unfazed. “We detailed the relevant accusations quite explicitly. If you have nothing to say in your defense, then We shall move on to your sentencing.”

At last he seemed to grasp that this was no jest, his expression hardening even as an entreating note entered his voice.

“Caroline...Your Majesty...surely you do not trust the word of some lowly, nameless knight over I. Your Lord. Your Betrothed.”

Said nameless knight was reveling in the clot’s continuous missteps.

“We find it odd that you make such claims of Our most loyal knight. It was not he who brought forth evidence against you.”

Well, not directly, he thought with a well-hidden smirk.

“Come forth, Lord Augustine, what say you on this matter?”

From the crowd stepped a dark haired man. Niklaus was used to seeing him with an air of mischief and a taunting smirk not far from his face. A bit of a rogue that one. But now there was only solemnity, though a hint of disdain crossed his face when his eyes flitted over Lockwood.

“Your Majesty,” he said with a proper bow and address. “After an interrogation of the Lords Salvatore a most detailed plot came to light.” Lord Augustine then proceeded to outline the entire tale, and it was indeed conspiracy, even treason for some of the named parties. “Measures were taken to verify the veracity of this information. Confirming correspondence was found in the belongings of many of those outed by the Salvatores. Threatened servants came to light to whom I offered protection in return for their services on this matter.”

With each word, a dark pleasure curled in his chest as he watched Lockwood become increasingly pale and panicked.

The Queen nodded. “On account of this evidence We offer probationary pardon to the involved servants and an execution order for one Lord Tyler Lockwood.”

Desperate, Lockwood made to draw his sword on the Queen. Niklaus may have been several feet away from the dais, but he crossed the distance in a flash. One harsh jerk sent the still sheathed sword clattering to the floor below and a shove sent the doomed lord stumbling after it. Guards seemed to materialize out of nowhere, seizing the man’s arms and forcing him to his knees.

He could feel the deadly glare on his face as he glowered at the worm’s audacity. How dare he even attempt to harm Her Majesty let alone in his presence.

“We thank you, Sir Niklaus, and offer you one last order as Our loyal knight. Carry out Our execution order. Remove this threat to Our Kingdom.”

“At once, Your Majesty.” He stepped forward, bending slightly to heft Lockwood’s sword from the ground. Without fanfare he unsheathed it, drawing the sharpened steel across Lockwood’s throat. A quick sidestep allowed him to avoid the resulting blood and the guards dropped the man into the rapidly forming crimson puddle.

The Court was silent as they all bore witness to Lockwood’s final moments. When the man fell still the guards returned to drag the body away. No doubt someone would remove the head and confirm his death.

Niklaus turned toward Her Majesty, kneeling before her throne. Now that the room was settled once more, he was able to process the earlier mention of the word “last.”

“Sir Niklaus you have served Us with honor. You have done a great service for this Kingdom, its people, and Us. You have gone above and beyond your duty numerous times and you have earned Our favor long ago.”

The Queen waved a hand, circulating a familiar parchment along with a similar letter with an unfamiliar seal.

“Sir Niklaus. Son of Esther. Son of Ansel.” He felt his jaw fall open slightly, though he quickly snapped it shut with a click of his teeth.

What?

“…legitimized trueborn Prince of Varg.*** We name you King Consort. Rise, Lord Niklaus.”

He did so in a daze, uncertain if his ears were deceiving him. A subtle gesture had him turning to gaze at the court. A Court that was now kneeling before him.

“All hail, Queen Caroline!” They chanted in unison.

“All hail, King Niklaus!”

Points if you caught the GoT inspiration. 

*Purple Crocus represent youthful happiness; its wilting a bad omen. **Honesuckle represent devotion and bonds of love ***Varg means wolf

[burning-waters]

Ted Bundy Tapes review: review of a serial killer

Hey, followers! I’m starting this thing that I’m not sure what to call yet, but it’s me reviewing things I watch or read. (My cousin Lucas suggested I start it, so if you like it, you can thank him. I'll put up his phone number soon so you can give him the congratulations on my job well done.) Here’s the first! This isn’t the ideal first thing to review, since it’s a documentary and most of this is me reviewing the man himself, but this series made me think, and so I’m writing about it. It’s long, and I promise you not all I review will be this long (Can I truly promise that? Who knows.)!

It was the 70s, and the United States was not ready for its first recorded serial killer.

I know it came out a while ago, and there was a whole hulabaloo about it then, but Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes has been on my watch list on Netflix for a while and I’ve only just found the courage to watch it.  It is the telling of the story of a serial killer, encompassing my twin passions: stories and psychology.

It was truly a rollercoaster from start to finish, as I did not entirely know what to expect from it. Certainly it was going to be a documentary, but I haven’t been in contact with many of those, so I wasn’t prepared for how moved I would be by its source material and witnesses. This was different from what I had watched and read before: fiction. This was real, with real news and court footage, real friends and family, real tape recordings of conversations with him on death row. And you can’t get more haunting than reality.

From a storytelling standpoint, it was well executed. You wouldn’t think that, from the start. The timeline jumps in between Bundy’s earlier life (told by himself) and his first killings (told by people who worked the case). At first it annoyed me that they wouldn’t stick to one period of time. But then I realized what they were doing: Ted Bundy didn’t care about anyone but himself. What mattered to him was his story, not the people he killed. Once the story got to him finally becoming a suspect, the timelines of conversation and retelling of the events converged and the story became one. It was as if now he couldn’t help but be involved. By that point in the taped interview, they managed to get him to talk about what he had done, even though only in the third person. He wouldn’t confess to any of it until his final days on death row.

You can’t talk about the documentary without talking about the man himself and his troubled psychology. I’ve worked with people in a psychiatric ward (none of them convicted serial killers, but troubled people all the same), and now I appreciate all the paperwork we had to do about the people in it, and appreciate even more the guidelines put in place to keep everyone safe.  

The man wasn’t deranged, but smart in his own way. He went through college, and was getting his law degree when he was caught. He escaped from custody twice, and planned both escapes with precision. When he fled the second time, he was on the run for months, using stolen credit cards and cars. But what got to me was how I doubted his guilt, just like his friends and family had done. He seemed to be a charming man, who wouldn’t do any harm. He made people laugh and feel at ease. That is how he convinced his victims to come without a fuss.

When he was caught and in the courtroom, he was a frightening man, and his pride was more important than being smart. He wasn’t necessarily frightening in an alarming sense, at least not from the start. When he wasn’t allowed to talk to the press after having been officially caught as the serial killer he was, he became erratic and unsettled. He needed the attention, needed to be heard, as if he were being wronged and framed. His defense lawyer wanted him to plead guilty because he didn’t see a good outcome with all the evidence against Bundy. The man agreed to do so, but when it came to it, he pled innocent and wanted to be his own defense. Therefore, in court, he was allowed to interrogate witnesses. This didn’t do him much good. He asked for the crime scenes to be described in detail, more than once. This showed more than an interest in them, but a sick awe of them, of what he had done. He relished in the outcome of his monstrosity.

When asked if he did any of what he was convicted of, he smiled and said he didn’t do it. It makes you wonder if he considered himself to be two people: the Ted who killed young women, and the Ted who was innocent. He was in complete denial of what he had done and only confessed to his 30 crimes when he thought it would postpone his scheduled death by electric chair. This was a man with no empathy, no guilt, and no remorse. And yet his friends and family couldn’t see it.

Was he a monster since birth, with no empathy inside him? Or did he become one when he wouldn’t fight against the voice in his head that told him to kill? Did an initial lack of empathy only facilitate this? People can be born with that screw loose. People can be influenced by pornography like he said he and the other inmates were, but does that make them all susceptible to kill? A professional who analyzed him said he was bipolar, but does all that put together excuse what he did? What about the curious people who gathered to see his court proceedings, who gathered around the prison he was being kept at and cheered on the day of his death, with posters telling him to burn? Isn’t all life sacred? Should one cheer for another’s death, even if it were to be the death of a man such as Ted Bundy? Or can that also be considered a monstrosity? Would you have cheered along with them?

[noramoya]

I WAS A BOY IN MICHAEL JACKSON’S LIFE AND NOTHING HAPPENED...

“I wanted to write and post this before Leaving Neverland premiered at Sundance last Friday. After all, I had a close relationship with Michael Jackson growing up and nothing of what he continues to be accused of has ever happened to me. I decided to wait because I was curious to see if the film would get any wings considering Wade Robson’s volatile and unsuccessful claims against Michael Jackson in the past. Sure, let him tell his story again. Truth and justice will prevail as they have. Soon after it premiered, I quickly Googled “leaving neverland” to discover news articles stating that the four-hour documentary received a standing ovation. In disbelief, I searched the hashtag on Instagram to see Story footage from the theater and there they were — Wade Robson, James Safechuck and the film’s director Dan Reed — on stage in front of an applauding audience at their feet. I’m not sure if the audience was doing so because they were perceived as survivors making a public appearance, or if the film was actually good in their eyes, or both; but all I could think about was that their strategy, unfortunately, worked.

Raising awareness about child abuse and providing a safe community for others to speak their truth is vital, but using Michael Jackson as a vehicle to do so is simply wrong. In order for any story to be valid, there has to be an element of trust and I do not trust the people associated with this film. Let’s be clear: Michael Jackson showed up. He faced public interviews, he answered difficult-to-stomach questions, he agreed to interrogative documentaries, he withstood a 10-year FBI investigation, and he appeared in an eighteen-month criminal trial until he was acquitted having been found not guilty on all fourteen child molestation and abuse-related accounts. The fact that twelve years of criminal investigations and government legal proceedings can be completely overruled by the media due to a manipulation of the same stories once told before by a select few, especially by those who were initially on the defense, is deeply concerning. Maybe even horrifying.

I haven’t seen the documentary, but it “focuses on two men… who allege they were sexually abused by the pop star Michael Jackson as children” (Wikipedia). Everyone is entitled to his/her/their story and I believe that each story should be told in truth to the best of his/her/their ability, but my issue with Leaving Neverland is the heavy reliance on one side, especially when that one side is comprised of only two people. On top of it all, those two people happen to know each other. So what we have is a product comprised of two acquaintances’ stories who were in Michael’s life as boys that has been glorified in a 236-minute documentary. Remember that the film would mark Robson’s second attempt to tell his story. He told the same, truncated version of his story publicly in 2013 and simultaneously filed suit against the Michael Jackson Estate, which the court later dismissed. This was eight years after he testified twice under oath explicitly stating that Michael did nothing wrong during a criminal trial in which the jury delivered a verdict of not guilty. It’s clear that this film’s intention is to position Michael as a child predator, but I find that the entire Leaving Neverland saga is really, in turn, a predation on a man of power and wealth now almost 10 years dead and thereby defenseless.

I was part of Michael’s life from the day I was born in 1987 until 2001. The last time I was literally close to him was backstage at the Staples Center when his casket wheeled past me. I knew him well because my mother, Janet Zeitoun, his sole hairstylist during the time, knew him even better. One could say that they might as well have been siblings. In fact, my mother was one of the few non-family members invited to the private memorial service at the cemetery hours before the public one in Downtown LA. Michael felt so comfortable with my mother because she made him laugh unlike anyone else, let alone the fact that she’s incredible at her craft. Michael even said in writing that she’s the “Michelangelo of hair.”

From the 80s, 90s and early 2000s, my mother has been around the globe with Michael. She’s been by his side doing his hair on sets, in dressing rooms, backstage at his concerts, at his home, on planes, in hotel rooms, in cars, and yes, even at Neverland. When my mom was pregnant with me in ‘86, Michael told her that she’d be having a boy; and on the day of my birth, Michael sent a limo to our home filled with gifts. And from then on, my single, hard-working mother who wanted to spend as much time with me as she could often brought me to work with her. So I grew up on the sets of Michael’s music videos, I played with my toys on the floor of his dressing rooms, and he sometimes came over to our house to get his hair done. As I got a bit older and could walk on my own two feet, I became the boy responsible for making sure Michael got candy in between some of his concert rehearsal sets. Michael would make everyone stop and patiently wait for me to wobble my way on stage to him. I even remember singing “I Just Can’t Wait to be King” to him in his trailer (so embarrassing!)but he gave me his undivided attention and smiled. I went to Neverland, several times of which Michael was there and he gave us the full tour of his home. I remember my favorite golf cart to get around had a Peter Pan emblem on it.

I remember his movie theater concession stand being filled with candy that you could go behind the counter and take to watch whatever movie you wanted. I remember riding the big steam engine train that would take you from one end of the ranch to the other. I remember a big pot-bellied pig named Petunia and that I could name a newborn deer and rabbit. I chose Cuddie and Thumper, respectively; original, I know, but Michael loved the names.

Unlike Robson or Safechuck, I wasn’t in the public eye with Michael. The only sort of public thing that happened was him publishing a photo of us in the centerfold of his 1995 tour book. Fourteen years later, the caretaker of his children recognized me backstage at the Staples Center during his memorial service and told me that the photo was one of Michael’s favorites, and at the time in 2009 was still framed on his grand piano in Neverland.

I remember leaving Neverland a happy kid who couldn’t wait to go back. I remember telling my mom that I wanted to have another birthday party there or that I wanted to hang out with Michael again at the ranch. The bulk of my experience with Michael was during the 90s right when the FBI investigation began on account of child molestation allegations. Knowing that this was happening and that these charges were set against him, I don’t think my protective and well-aware mother would’ve allowed me to continue hanging around Michael or head up to Neverland had she not trusted him.

I firmly believe Michael did no wrong. You don’t have to take my word for it, though; know that his truth was proven in a court of law. The stories being presented in Leaving Neverland are incredibly one-sided. This film is merely the Wade Robson & James Safechuck Story because I, too, remember leaving Neverland, as does my mother, and as do many people in his life who’d be glad to have a say in a film so generically titled; now wrongfully entitled to depict Michael’s life and his misunderstood relationship with children. Any credible director of a documentary seeking truth on the matter would do his/her/their due diligence and present the full story from a carefully chosen and meaningful variety of sources. With four hours of film time to spare, I’m sure there could have been room. This is why I’m deeply disappointed in HBO and Channel 4 UK for picking it up with plans to air it later this spring. The networks snagged a falsity and will be responsible for disseminating a poorly researched film based on the highly skewed opinions of a select few that many of its subscribers will conclude as true.

Leaving Neverland is connecting because Robson and Safechuck’s well-acted stories are similar to those of true survivors watching the film. It’s a smart, yet corrupt way to capitalize on an entire community’s vulnerabilities. It’s also connecting because their stories are bolstered with a compelling medium to tell them as well as an accredited establishment like Sundance to premiere it. It’s riding the wave of an important #MeToo and #TimesUp movement, and it poorly validates a shortsighted equation that many people think they already have the answer to: Michael Jackson plus always being around children must equal child molester. The result? A byproduct of lies smeared with a thin layer of credibility intended to enrage the general media and side with self-proclaimed victims. And because the people behind these forms of media have a following (or not), perhaps they’re employed by some “greater” masthead and their information is muffled with journalists who actually the seek truth, the general population slowly becomes convinced, valuing information by ease of access which has really been served to them by algorithms designed to showcase what individuals only want to see. This is where destruction escalates. This is where the snowball gains its mass. This is why I’m stepping in with my story now.

I urge you to make it your undying responsibility to seek truth and acknowledge all sides in your consumption of how Michael is being depicted in this film. The capitalization of circumstance, divisive use of content and manipulation of media — all combined with rising false senses of entitlement — can quickly nullify a verdict and forever challenge truth to favor the other. This is the loophole with our digital ecosystem that actually determines one’s fate and this is the precise mechanism Leaving Neverland is using, especially when money is at stake. It will ultimately destroy his family, defame his legacy and eradicate his artistry. If you think this little loophole won’t take it that far, well, for starters: it’s already killed Michael Jackson.

Michael signed a letter to me on Neverland letterhead once. It read: “from your protective and older brother, Michael Jackson.” Now I find it my turn to protect him by telling my story because I solemnly swear that this kind-hearted, genius-of-a-man is innocent. I probably would have known otherwise.”

— TALUN ZEITOUN, JANET ZEITOUN’S SON , MJ’S HAIRSTYLIST ...

[brownstonearmy]

2021-03-20: Court Ordered Appearances (Part 2)

Tuesday Aug 25 (early afternoon, breezy)

After a short rest and some government-provided healing, Disco and Spleenifer are reunited with Lucky and Norm. A "delay in jurisdictional clarification" resulted in Norm arriving after the dirty job had been completed. It seems more like the law was showing favoritism to one of its officers, but who are we to judge the way the wheels of justice move?

Lucky looks quite a bit different today, as the court's summoning magic backfired and sent her into a plane where time runs differently. It's been two years since she last saw her companions, and her hair is now much longer and dyed blueberry blue with exposed roots. The courts gave the pair an emergency travel stipend of 1,000 GP each (with a little extra coin for Lucky on the side, on the condition that she not speak publicly about the government stranding her in another plane of reality for two years.

But before anyone can get too comfortable, court is called into session with the Honorable Drummond Lackman presiding over the case. The party is ushered to the Defense's bench where a Dwarven public defender is writing in a book, seemingly unaware that court has started. The Prosecution takes the floor to make opening statements, and that's when the party notices the Prosecution is not actually a man, but a Satyr named Ander Reedfellow.

The stakes are now apparent. In Swanmark, the penalty for murder is murder in turn. If there is no verdict by the time the bells toll 5, the verdict is death by default.

Ander calls his first witness to the stand: a sheep farmer named Melvil Ulmok. Melvil's testimony concerns a recent transaction involving Anaxilas. Apparently Mr. Ulmok sold a few sheep to Anaxilas, who didn't care what kind of sheep he bought. When Anaxilas was asked his intentions regarding the sheep, his answers to Mr. Ulmok were evasive. Melvil ends his testimony on an explosive accusation: "I say he's a ram-fucker."

The party persuades the public defender, Warden Alebrewer, to call Anaxilas's romantic partner, Norbert Haversham, to the stand to rebut the allegations. Norbert was not scheduled to be a witness in the testimony, but was in the audience watching the proceedings. Judge Lackman allows it, and Norbert reluctantly takes the stand. However, the line of questioning immediately turns to matters of the bedroom and Norbert refuses to answer those questions in public. Not because it's shameful or anything, but because it's generally not anyone else's business.

Ander Reedfellow calls another witness: Gimgen Brawnanvil. Astute readers may recall that Gimgen was a minor NPC who showed up way back in the early days of the campaign. He tried (and failed) to eat The Hole Thing. Ander asks Gimgen if he knows the some of the people defending the Anaxilas.

Gimgen identifies Disco and Lucky as being behind The Hole Thing eating contest. Although Gimgen was not forced to eat, the foul concoction forced him to un-eat (if you catch my drift) and also lose his prized Dwarven accent. If these are the kind of people trying to defend Anaxilas and the dragon, what does that say about Anaxilas's character if he's associating with these people? Clearly Bargulena was justified in eating him as a matter of civic service!

Lucky interrupts the proceedings by shouting "We have never intentionally hurt anyone, except for those who deserved it or for whom it would be funny."

Judge Lackman threatens Lucky with contempt of court and calls for order, while Warden requests a break to strategize their defense with the party since the prosecution is running roughshod over the defense.

In the defense's chambers, Warden explains that he's a public defender who gets a lot of cases and doesn't usually even get his case files until a few minutes before court. The defense packet for the This isn't ideal, but since the party happens to know Anaxilas, maybe they would be willing to take the lead on the defense?

Norm investigates the last known image of Anaxilas recorded on an adventure stone. It features a dragon yawning really wide while Anaxilas is standing at full height with his sword drawn. The image in question was taken by Anaxilas superfan, Gigi Hardcastle. When the party casts Locate Person on Anaxilas, it seems to ping the belt recovered from Bargulena's stomach.

With his experience as a police investigator, Norm is immediately suspicious that Gigi doesn't have a picture of the dragon closing its mouth. Disco has their own suspicions, because Norbert isn't nearly as broken up about the death of Anaxilas they would think.

Gigi and Norbert are requested for additional interrogation by the party, and the bailiff retrieves them. When Disco questions Norbert about his lack of sadness about losing a romantic partner, he divulges that he received a letter from Anaxilas that was dated AFTER his disappearance. The note reads:

"Norbert, my beloved, see you soon."

The conversation with Gigi is not as immediately helpful. She demands the dragon be called as a witness so the dragon can confess and be put to death. Gigi also cryptically mentions that there are things at play here that she cannot divulge and she only knows a piece of the puzzle. But her role is to see Bargulena executed and get near the dragon when it happens.

Once court is back in session, the dragon Bargulena is called as a witness. As the time draws closer to the evening, a floating black shroud of an executioner has appeared in the courtroom. Bargulena takes the stand, or at least her head and neck do, since she doesn't quite fit in the court.

Bargulena is clearly under some powerful sedatives and speaks with a slurred voice that oscillates between belligerence and mirthful honesty. Ander Reedfellow begins the cross-examination. "Did you eat Anaxilas, the celebrity adventurer?"

"Yes," Bargulena answers. "He tasted like cologne and sweat."

Norm asks Bargulena to open her mouth wide. Bargulena's teeth match the teeth featured in Gigi's picture.

Disco begins interrogating Bargulena, still trying to prove the dragon's innocence. Bargulena, however, is not having it. She professes her guilt over and over. Eventually it is decided that the best way to prove the innocence of a dragon who doesn't want to be proven innocent is to forcibly discharge Bargulena's bowels.

Cornelius von Tinkelwasser happens to be present at the court as an expert witness who gave testimony earlier in the case while the party was investigating Bargulena's guts. Spleenifer asks if Cornelius has his portable enema kit (of course he does, duh!), and so Spleenifer and Cornelius work together to pressurize Bargulena's bowels.

Moments later, a flood of magical dragon poop is unleashed. Cornelius is right in the middle of what sanitation professionals call "the splash zone," and he gets covered in partially digested dragon dinners.

Also escaping from the poopy prison are the drow who had been living in Bargulena's stomach as well as Monsignor Gryllz. During the commotion, Cornelius emerges from the splash zone transformed into a Werecorn. It's like a werewolf, but you know... an angry corn monster. Thankfully, Cornelius doesn't appear to be hostile, but there's yet another wrinkle in this courtroom chaos!

Several drow ladies led by a drow named Jenneleth materialize in the courtroom. Jenneleth has been trying to find her brother for the last 200 years, and she intends to make him pay for his insolence and willingness to associate with lesser races. She casts a spell to summon shadowy tentacles, but Lucky counterspells it and triggers a wild magic surge. Lightning appears on the ceiling and a pleasant breeze wafts through the courtroom.

Meanwhile, Disco is arguing against Jenneleth's abhorrent racial perspectives: "Having hooked up with many races, there is no lesser race."

Disco breaks out their lute and gets the party's energy pumping, as well as pumping out a seductive song for Jenneleth in an attempt to get her to consider the "other side." Although a string breaks on Disco's lute, the song is still at least a little bit appreciated by Jenneleth.

Jenneleth briefly considers "debasing herself with an inferior race," but ultimately opts to just keep on trying to destroy the whole courthouse in an attempt to capture or kill her brother.

Lucky notices a suspicious bucket that appears to be poison for the execution. She cast Thunder Step to blink over to the bucket and tosses it into the portable hole in an attempt to control access to it in case someone tries to execute Bargulena. Jenneleth tries to firebolt Gigi, but Gigi manages to get close to Bargulena and Lucky tosses the poison to her, because the party's not going to be the one killing a dragon.

As Gigi administers the poison, the large gem in her spider chair begins to glow as Bargulena's soul flows into it. Monsignor Gryllz also begins glow, but that's because he's absorbing part of the Bargulena's soul. Once he's powered up a bit, Monsignor Gryllz cackles and flies away.

Disco grabs Norbert and demands to know what they're supposed to do next, but right now the most prudent course of action is going to be to get out of this deadly courtroom brawl. Lucky administers some of that good old fashioned magical invisibility on Disco as a swarm of tabloid clerics descend from the spectator area to try to cast speak with dead on the dragon's corpse. The spells of the tabloid clerics are ultimately unsuccessful.

Gigi still needs to escape the pandemonium, and that's when Norm decides to create a diversion for her. He pulls out his folding boat and OH MY GOSH WHAT IS THAT as a big boat appears in the middle of the courtroom. Six seconds of stunned silence follow as Gigi makes her way to the exit.

Once Norm retrieves his folding boat and the rest of the party is free of the courtroom that is rapidly crumbling to the ground from the cacophony of spells being fired within, Gigi gets questioned about what the next step is.

She pats the glowing gemstone in her chair. "The dragon knows where Anaxilas is."

Stay tuned next time for more!

[prorevenge]

Pro revenge by whistle blowing.

warning: long story.

One of my first jobs out of college wasn't really a true job. I interviewed at a proprietary trading firm and was offered a job as one of their traders. Looking back, it was naive to join such a firm and this was right before the '08 crash. They sold themselves as being pro traders and all you had to do was put up some capital which got added to the group's pooled fund. After that, you went through training and once the boss thought you were ready, you would 'go live' with your trading account. There were no paychecks, but you did get to keep most of your profits. Later on, I learned that the bosses of such groups made money by either taking a cut from your profits or by taking a fee from your traded volume. This group skimmed from both sides taking 15% from your profits and a fee from your trading volume which came out to about $1.5 every 100 shares traded.

For months, I spent time learning from the "Pros," and then I began to realize along with some of the other newbies, that the only person making money was the boss. The turnover for new traders was high. Some people lasted a month, others a year or two. As I got to know people around the office, I began finding out that very few made any money at all. The boss was a micromanager and watched the risk monitor for his group like a hawk. If you hit -$50 in a day, you were locked out and couldn't trade anymore throughout the day. Also, you were limited to trading stocks up to $40 per share with a max size of 200 shares. It was very difficult to make a living trading like this.

Here is where things get interesting. The boss took a liking to me at first because I was tech savvy. They had a large computer lab with many trading groups and about 1,000 workstations set up for trading. The group I was in had maybe 35-40 traders. The floor was staffed with 2 IT techs. Needless to say, if there was a tech problem, it took a while for your support ticket to get answered. So, instead of waiting, I just hacked the network and got the domain admin credentials (back in the days of XP and Server 2k3). I then proceeded to add my account to the local admins group on my PC at the office. In turn, I was able to install updates, patches, different trading software, and more. The IT staff never knew and the boss liked how I got around the system and gave me an additional role as the 'unofficial IT guy' for our group. This exposed me to the bosses PC as well as all of the other traders.

Doing the unofficial IT work, I ended up meeting everyone in the group. As I became friends with some of the more seasoned traders, I found out that most were surviving by receiving a commission for signing up new traders and not from trading. New traders would put $3-10k down and after the 'training class,' they'd go live. A small portion of that went to the employee that recruited the trader. One guy, let's call him 'trader x' who had been there the longest started telling me all about the boss and I began to understand how shady this whole operation was. Having access to the bosses PC when he asked me to help with some basic tasks, 'trader x' stopped by and coerced me into doing some digging. The boss was gone, and we found a lot of shady documents relating to the company. The boss had an alternate identity, bank accounts in another name, ID's with his picture and different info. It was all very suspicious. Shortly after that day of digging, he entrusted me to bring an envelope with some documents to the bank for him, and I did. Although, when I met with the banker about the documents I was dropping off, she used the other name trader x and I found on the bosses PC. When I mentioned the name I knew, the banker had no idea who I was talking about.

Soon after realizing it was a sketchy place to be working at, and seeing my fellow traders drop like flies due to the trading restrictions, I came across one of the bosses emails to an unknown part that went into detail about how to properly sign up traders and bleed their accounts dry for the maximum profit. I'm oversimplifying it here but this got to me and I went home ticked off. Trader X and I talked about it and he confirmed that this was the bosses modus operandi. Collect the training fee, have the trader sign the contract with the group, and cycle them out as fast as possible. So that night, I went home and wrote up a post on a trading forum about the group, its practices, and warned anyone looking at joining the group to steer clear. I went to bed and thought nothing more of the post until the next day.

The next morning, when I arrived in the office, everyone was being held in the conference room. We were all getting interviewed/interrogated about a post that was found online about our group. Shit! It was my post! I remained calm and when it was my turn, I just remember thinking to myself "Never underestimate the power of denial." When asked if I had any knowledge of anything posted online, I said that I did not. Suspicion was there but it got dropped after I was threatened with an empty threat that if I did know anything, I was in breach of the contract I signed that stated that I could be sued for damages up to $100k. I didn't buckle under the pressure and maintained that I didn't know anything. After a few days, things cooled off and I was asked to stay late to work on the bosses PC again. This time, I pulled a copy of all the bosses emails and saved it to a flash drive.

When reviewing what I took, and knowing that this was a 'fly by night' sort of operation going on, I packaged it up and sent the pst file to the SEC via an anonymous email address. I then reached out to all of the traders I had known that left and were swindled out the their money and urged them to submit complaints / tips to the SEC about the trading group. All in all, I think about 20 complaints were sent out through my efforts. When I looped in Trader X about everything I had done, he jumped in and got more people from before my time starting with the group to submit complaints.

Now it was time for my exit. I wanted to be done with this group. I contacted the boss and informed him I wanted my money back and based on my calculations, I should be flat overall with my account. I made nothing and lost nothing since I had started. The boss over the phone tried to inform me that I signed a contract and according to that contract, the money was no longer mine. To his surprise, I told him he was wrong and that I actually had a copy of his contract. I then proceeded to read off the sections that clearly stated that they money provided was for training purposes and would only be kept by the company if losses were not paid back to the company. He was surprised I was able to read this off to him because all copies of this contract were only available to the traders the day they signed with the group. He never provided a copy for your own records, and clearly did so because he did not want you to fully understand what you signed or have you scrutinize over it with a lawyer. Once I explained my logic of how my account was flat and that my capital contribution should be fully refundable based on the wording of the contract, his response to me was "The contract isn't open to interpretation!" I responded by saying "You think your contract isn't open for interpretation. Are you kidding? the Constitution is open to interpretation. What makes you think your contract is set in stone?" He proceeded by threatening me with the clause regarding the $100k in damages and claimed he had proof I posted online about him and his group. I told him I'd gladly meet him in court... I knew he wouldn't want to go to court and I called his bluff. A few days later I received a check for the money I initially put up to join the group.

What makes this qualify as pro revenge was that during the market crashing in '08, the office where the group operated out of got a visit from the SEC about 3 weeks after all the complaints were received. Trader X informed me that the boss was pulled into meetings with investigators from the SEC and a few days after their arrival, the boss was gone and the group dissolved. Since there were many other trading groups sharing the floor, anyone left over was given the option to get their money back or to join another group on the floor. The last I heard about the boss was that a few years after the whole SEC investigation, the parent company was investigated. They ended up changing business names and downsized significantly. As for my old boss, he moved out of the country after a few failed business endeavors. It was pretty sweet how everything played out and I was glad that most of the traders I was there with got their money back. In the end, some of the traders who knew the full story referred to me as the whistleblower of the group but in a good way!

(source) (story by daytrader1231)

[peculiarbob]

The Outcasts

This is the last chapter of part one. I’m finished writing part two, but I’m still editing it.

Word Count: 1884

One minor swear word

Links: Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3

Enjoy!

Chapter 4:

April 16 2014, on one focused much in class again. Rey bought some books on angels  from a bookstore a couple block away. They didn’t help much. Cat spent most of her night practicing her spells, she was on edge all day. Jay just slept as if he didn’t just find out that an angel is on a killing spree. Nothing interesting happened at school, like normal. They talked in whispers and at lunch Cat rambled on about something along the lines of, “He might not come for us. He probably doesn’t even know who we are.” Jay go up cautiously mumbling, “No way. His eyes, look!” He pointed to the other end of the food court, “It’s the angel!” They turn around and a girl in pink fairy wings. “You almost gave me a heart attack!” Cat yelled at him while slouching in her chair. “Dude. That’s so not funny.” Rey says putting her forehead on the table. “Come on.” Jay says soothingly, “ You two gotta learn how to laugh.” “Make better jokes then.” Rey says while giving him the middle finger.

When Rey got home her mom was practicing her warding spells. They didn’t know much about angels because they never bothered them and they never came around. Rey went to her room to finish her homework. It took her two hours to finish, then she went to eat dinner with her family. They talked about being safe and being cautious during hunts. Audrey didn’t really understand what was going on but understood enough. It was Wynter’s turn to wash the dishes to Rey went to her room to draw and listen to music. It’s now 11:00 pm, she wasn’t tired and was determined to finish her drawing. She was drawing bloody mare with her copics markers while listening to Feeling Good by Michael Buble.

Over the music she heard something behind her. She quickly turned around to find a strange man standing in the middle of her room. He wore a leather jacket and looked to be about 6”2, muscular and winged. She wasn’t threatened by him though. “Who are you?” she asked as she curiously looking at his broken wings. “That depends,” he said, “who are you?” She didn’t like that answer. Rey walked over to him taped his forehead with her finger, knocking him out. “Angels” she said, “always making things so difficult.” She used her telekinesis to move his unconscious body quietly so she wouldn’t wake her family.

She moved him to the basement. That’s where they would take monsters to interrogate them for information. All there was in there was a dim light, an iron chair with locks, a devil’s trap painted on the floor and a cabinet built in the wall. The cabinet had iron doors and inside there were things like salt, holy water, matches and holy oil. She locked him in the chair then headed back up stairs to get into her hunter outfit. She walked quietly and when she changed into her clothes she put on her mask and grabbed her blades too. She had a belt that had pockets to hold her blades. She had one blade that was curved with a black handle, and a white gem attached to the handle. It had the power to kill a demon. The other one was a rounded blade with a white handle, and a black gem attached to the handle. It had the power to kill an angel. She used these blades when she served hell.

The angel woke to the sound of music, “It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me. And I’m feeling good.” He looked up and was almost startled when he saw a figure in a mask with a horrible smile on it. “Smile for the camera.” she said as she took a picture with a Polaroid, “I like to keep a photo of my enemies just in case the getaway.” “You gonna tell me who you are, or am I gonna have to do it the hard way?” she said in a calm voice. “You will have to torture me before I ever give you any information.” he says in a serious voice. “Your choice kid.” she said under her breath before she put her hand on his forehead. Rey used her demonic abilities to look through his past, it was bad even for her.

She saw him get tricked by the snake to let him into heaven’s garden, then him get taken to the dungeons. He was tortured there for so many years and he watched his best friend get tortured. He was locked down there for thousands of years, maybe more, he was almost forgotten by the angels. She finally learned his name, Gadreel. If the other angels heard this name they didn’t think of anything good to go with it. Gadreel didn’t deserve all of this, he was tricked, who wouldn’t have been. Rey also saw him fall, possess Sam Winchester, get cast out, then kill for Metatron. It was a horror show. When she got out of his mind the angel was almost in tears, she didn’t realize he had to relive all of that when she went into his mind.

She took off her mask then sat on the floor cross legged in front of him. “So” Rey said, “why do you serve Metatron? I know you don’t want to kill.” When he didn’t answer she explained what she wanted, “I’ve made mistakes in my past, I’ve had more than my fair share of kills. But I’m also seeking redemption. I kill monsters to make up for what I did before. What about you?” Gadreel didn’t feel threatened by the girl so he said quietly, “I am seeking redemption as well. I am helping Metatron put heaven back together.” Before Rey could reply her mom came down. She was in her night clothes and looked tired, it was 11:30. She said in a groggy voice, “Honey, what are you doing?” She replied, “Interrogating someone.” “Oh,” her mother said, “Human or monster? Also are you going to let them go and why are you interrogating him?” Interrogation is almost normal for them. Rey says, “He’s an angel, I might let him go and he might have information we could use.” “Okay sweetie.”

Rey was relieved that her mother didn’t notice that she said “He’s an angel”, till she turned around and had her interrogation face on. “Crap.” Rey said under her breath. Her mom made her come out of the ring of holy fire and took her upstairs. “Is that the angel who’s on a murder spree?!” Her mother said in a serious tone. “P-potentially.” Rey stuttered, “I can handle whatever he throws at me, don’t wor-” “You think I’m worried about you?!” Rey’s mom said cutting her off, “I know you can handle angels. It’s your sisters I’m worried about, how would they react to this.” “Can I call my friends over? They deserve to know.” Her mom reluctantly agreed.

Cat, Jay and Tom, along with their families, were over in the next five minutes. Cat looked worried as she had to bring her six year old brother, Jefferson. Tom seemed to be kind of excited, nothing extraordinary really happened in his life. He was standing next to his 10 year old sister, Megan. All of the parents had nervous expressions. Jay on the other hand had already walked into the living room, for some reason he didn’t seem bothered by this whole situation. “Yo. Where is this bitch?” he says. “First of all” Rey says disapprovingly, “he’s not a bitch, and he’s in the basement.” They all headed into the basement, even Rey’s sisters. All of them either talked amongst themselves or tried to talk to Gadreel. He didn’t respond.

“Shut up!” Rey yelled. Everyone did shut up. She started talking to the angel, “Gadreel, would you respond to any of their questions?” “I would not.” he says glaring at them all. “Would you answer my questions if they weren't here?” she said calmly. He didn’t say anything but looked like he was contemplating his next words. Rey turned her head to the crowd behind her and nodded towards the stairs. After they all walked back up she closed to door behind them. She made a hole in the holy fire just long enough to pass through then sat down in front of him again.

Rey asked most of the questions like and Gadreel answered bluntly. After a while he asked her a question, “What are you?” “What?” she said confused. Hesitantly he said, “I do not know if you know this but, Metatron ordered me to kill you.” She wasn’t fazed by this though, she knew one day someone would try to kill her. “This is why.” she says as she makes her eyes go completely black. She stopped Gadreel from saying anything then proceeded to tell him a little bit about her past and what she was. When she was finished she looked up and he wore a poignant expression. “I don’t need your pity, just so you know.” she said in a solemn tone. She asked him if he wanted to know anything else, when he said no she questioned him a bit more. After another hour of that she stood up, put out the ring of fire, unlocked him from the chair then said, “You’re not that bad kid. Convince Metatron that you killed me and never mention me again.” He got up then they walked up the stairs.

Rey was able to convinced everyone that they shouldn’t be afraid of him. Jay and Tom talked to him for a while, questioning him a lot. Cat didn’t particularly like angels but mustered up the courage to have a short conversation with him. The parents then talked to him, Rey smirked when she noticed that he didn’t look like he enjoyed talking so much to so many people. Wearing her business face she said to Gadreel, “We could use someone like you on hunts. Once someone wins this angel versus angel war stop on by. Preferably on October 13, that’s my birthday.” The angel agreed to stop by once the war was won and before he went he said to Rey, “You are wasting your talents with these small hunts.” Then he walked out the door.

The next few months were normal to an extent. When it was Rey’s birthday she acted normal but she secretly was hoping to see the only nice angel she ever encountered. It’s now 11:00 at night she was drawing a picture of Jeff the Killer. She was somewhat disappointed that Gadreel didn’t visit her but she didn’t know what’s going on in his life. “I wonder if the war is done yet.” she thought to herself, “I guess I’ll never know.” But this gave her a realization. “I’m wasting my talent.” she thinks as she puts down her pencil, “I should use my skills to stop bigger problems.” She smiles at this thought then goes to bed. She meets up with Cat, Jay and Tom the next day then says to them with a smirk, “How about we make a name for ourselves?”

[asafeatherwould]

Are Divorces Expensive?

This is a question that lingers in many people’s minds. Are divorces expensive? The answer is Maybe. There is an impression that divorce comes along with a hefty price tag. This impression has proven to be true some of the time but the price tag is not only placed on money alone but also other factors of life.

Then why is it so expensive to get out of an unhappy marriage? Divorce leaves you with a financial blow that will take you 10 years to recover. Can you imagine having to toil for 10 years in order to recover and catch up with your financial life? Yes, it is a bitter pill but you have to swallow it. Continue reading the article to get a clearer picture on why divorce is so expensive.

Failure to be Reasonable in Divorce

Being unreasonable in divorce results to an endless circle of costs and craziness. As you become more unreasonable in divorce, you continue fighting with your spouse. These fights are more emotionally invested. The more you fight, the more emotionally drained you become. The more emotionally invested you become, the less reasonable you become. And the cycle goes on and on. The main reason behind fighting is for one of you to win. But here is the truth: no one wins in divorce.

You should be focusing on how to divide your property and other stuff or how to take care of the kids instead of fighting to win because in fighting, you both get to lose. The bottom line behind this is that the more you fight, the more compromising you become and since this happens in court, your charges become higher everyday, then you end up losing a lot. You definitely know that going to court is one of the primary ways used to make divorce more expensive.

Dragging out Discovery in Divorce

Discovery in divorce is a process where you and your spouse get to know information about one another in your divorce. Depending on where you live, this process entails filling out financial affidavits which have full information. In this case, you will be expected to produce some financial documents like bank statements, tax returns, as well as other financial documents. In this case, you may be required to answer very detailed financial questions or present yourself for a deposition.

The process of discovery is quite expensive. It does not only require you to produce, analyze and organize your information, you are also required to have an approval from your lawyer. Most lawyers charge around $300 – $500 per hour. If you drag the process, then this can amount to millions of dollars in a very short duration.

If you take your process faster but your spouse drags his or her process, the process takes longer and more money builds up. Every time the lawyers have to present themselves in court and compel you or your spouse to give out your financial information, more money is added. And every time the lawyers have to go to a conference meeting to tell the judge nothing is going on, the judge goes on with the case. Remember, all that costs money. Therefore, more and more debt is piling up.

Going to Divorce Court

This is the primary source of high costs in divorce. There are many instances when you have to pay your lawyer as indicated below: ● Every time the lawyer has to get ready for a contested hearing ● Everytime the lawyers meet and talk ● Every time lawyers write letters to each other The court process is very expensive to deal with your divorce. Thankfully, these days there are alternatives where you don’t have to litigate your divorce. Options like mediation and collaborative divorce go a long way in helping you save money. But don’t get your head over heels on this one. It is also costly.

In this case, if your spouse fails to be reasonable and maybe delay the process, you are definitely going to experience a high shoot in your costs. If you or your spouse drags his or her feet in delivering financial information, the costs will definitely go high. The worst case scenario is when your spouse refuses to produce financial information or either you or your spouse actively hides the money, both mediation and collaborative divorce does not work at all.

You definitely have to move to a new place after divorce. How much will the new place cost? You may be required to pay 2 to 3 months security before moving in. In some situations, the house you get becomes more expensive than the previous house. Remember, may be in the previous house you were sharing costs with your spouse. Now you have to do it solely. Remember, you have to move your things to the new house. You will require moving fees, furniture, extra cutlery, cleaning supplies as well as entertainment money. This is quite expensive. Don’t forget laundry costs and hiring cleaners to clean your new house. Alimony and child support After divorce, you may be forced to pay alimony and child support. Alimony is also known as spousal support to one of the former spouses. It is based on the decision by the couple themselves or an order from the court. It is used to compensate any divorce charges to the non-wage earning or the spouse earning a lower amount. One spouse may have been forced to forego their career and support the family and may need time to develop other job skills and get a new job to support themselves. It is also used in order to help one spouse continue the standard of living that was there during their marriage.

When a married couple divorces, the parent who does not take the custody of the child might be forced by the government to pay some part of his or her earnings as child support. If you are making child support, you should take it seriously because failure to do so, you may negatively affect your credit score and if it becomes serious, you may even end up in jail. Child support mandates you to pay for summer camp, tuition fees, college funds, after school activities, and upkeep funds.

More Costs

Yes, you need more than a lawyer. Due to the detailed processes, you may be required to hire an accountant to cater for your financial issues and budget them well. That is labor and you have to pay them. You may think that a lawyer is enough to tell you the figures you need but an accountant would validate each dollar spent. There are also filing fees, and extra charges like printing required documents, paying the driver or taking a cab to court every time you have a case. At some point, you have to chip in and buy a meal for one person or two after the court proceedings. There are quite a large number of those little expenses people overlook. Yes, they may cost you a lot. Finances are quite a blow during divorce. It can cost you as much as you used to pay for mortgage. If your spouse decides to be a jerk, then you might be tempted to be a jerk too and drag the divorce process.

The simplest way of making divorce less expensive is not to divorce at all. Here are tips on how to evade divorce: ● Marry your friend – marriage is a tough road to walk. Walking it with someone who is not your friend can be a very tough experience. A friend will be able to endure the tough storms that come through. ● Solve the small misunderstandings – divorce is brought about by the little misunderstandings between couples. If you spot a misunderstanding, sit down, hold a conversation and solve the problem at hand. ● Live within your means – stretching beyond what you can afford as a couple can bring financial misunderstandings. Live within your means. Take your kids to a school you can afford. Live in an affordable neighbourhood. This way, you can build an empire together and develop smoothly. ● Watch the nature of your spouse before getting married – before you go down on one knee and before you reach a stage of saying yes, learn your partner’s behavior and understand them. Have an open mind and be ready to put up with behaviors you do not like.

In situations where marriage becomes unbearable and you have to divorce, then below are tips to make your divorce less expensive: Exchange your information voluntarily instead of through formal discovery There are some information required during divorce like disclosure of assets, property and taxes. If you use formal discovery, this process is quite expensive and time-consuming because you may need to do interrogations and depositions. These processes will need the presence of an attorney and as discussed earlier, attorneys are very expensive. Just offer your required documents voluntarily and make the process cheaper and less time-consuming.

Understand your divorce attorney’s role

I understand that it can be quite an emotional challenge to talk to your spouse when undergoing divorce. However, it can be less expensive to exchange information among yourselves instead of using an attorney. Attorneys make excellent advisers and they have a good understanding of the law and the procedures needed but you don’t have to have an attorney. You can choose to just communicate on the basic stuff with your attorney. But if communicating with your spouse will elongate, then you can choose to lean on your attorney to fasten the process.

Keep your money separate during marriage

When you marry someone, you can keep some of your property personal and separate from your spouse. Anything that you owned before marriage inclusive of inheritance, gifts and other possessions. Any profits you acquire through your assets are solely yours.

You can keep these in a separate account during marriage. This will fasten the divorce process and it will be a cheaper process since it will be easier to see which assets belong to you and make the lengthy and costly court proceedings become less.

Communicate with your attorney

Talking about your divorce can be so hard but expressing your thoughts clearly through your attorney regarding the proceedings can help make sure that you are on the same page. Your attorney will never know if they are representing your best interests unless you take time and speak to them about the details. Do not fear criticism and judgement from the person who is there to protect you. If you are forthright, you will be in a position to streamline your divorce process.

Remember, it is not only your finances that will be a burden. Remember the emotional turmoil that you will go through. Never forget that this might lead you into depression. The therapist visits you will need to get out of the situation may be too costly. Stomach ulcers are also real. There are more diseases that you can get from the stress undergone during divorce. These may send you to hospital and you will encounter more bills over there.

Your children will also be affected. It is not easy for kids to see their parents separate. They take long to adapt to living with one parent. Their performance in school may be adversely affected. Again, they may find it hard to share what they are going through with their friends. How do they end up? In depression. More and more bills.

Remember, your financial strength is what makes you develop in life. Choose the right method if you have to divorce. Otherwise do not divorce at all. If you have to divorce, follow the tips that I have highlighted above and you will be able to save some cash for your financial strength even to be able to meet the bills after you have officially separated with your spouse..

Is divorce expensive? The fact remains: yes, it can be, if you fight, it surely will be. If you go to trial, divorce is very expensive. Plan yourself wisely, marry wisely, budget wisely, and live wisely. Conduct your court proceedings wisely too.

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When you need legal help for a divorce case in Utah, please call Ascent Law at (801) 676-5506. We will help you.

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[aretia]

Are Divorces Expensive?

This is a question that lingers in many people’s minds. Are divorces expensive? The answer is Maybe. There is an impression that divorce comes along with a hefty price tag. This impression has proven to be true some of the time but the price tag is not only placed on money alone but also other factors of life.

Then why is it so expensive to get out of an unhappy marriage? Divorce leaves you with a financial blow that will take you 10 years to recover. Can you imagine having to toil for 10 years in order to recover and catch up with your financial life? Yes, it is a bitter pill but you have to swallow it. Continue reading the article to get a clearer picture on why divorce is so expensive.

Failure to be Reasonable in Divorce

Being unreasonable in divorce results to an endless circle of costs and craziness. As you become more unreasonable in divorce, you continue fighting with your spouse. These fights are more emotionally invested. The more you fight, the more emotionally drained you become. The more emotionally invested you become, the less reasonable you become. And the cycle goes on and on. The main reason behind fighting is for one of you to win. But here is the truth: no one wins in divorce.

You should be focusing on how to divide your property and other stuff or how to take care of the kids instead of fighting to win because in fighting, you both get to lose. The bottom line behind this is that the more you fight, the more compromising you become and since this happens in court, your charges become higher everyday, then you end up losing a lot. You definitely know that going to court is one of the primary ways used to make divorce more expensive.

Dragging out Discovery in Divorce

Discovery in divorce is a process where you and your spouse get to know information about one another in your divorce. Depending on where you live, this process entails filling out financial affidavits which have full information. In this case, you will be expected to produce some financial documents like bank statements, tax returns, as well as other financial documents. In this case, you may be required to answer very detailed financial questions or present yourself for a deposition.

The process of discovery is quite expensive. It does not only require you to produce, analyze and organize your information, you are also required to have an approval from your lawyer. Most lawyers charge around $300 – $500 per hour. If you drag the process, then this can amount to millions of dollars in a very short duration.

If you take your process faster but your spouse drags his or her process, the process takes longer and more money builds up. Every time the lawyers have to present themselves in court and compel you or your spouse to give out your financial information, more money is added. And every time the lawyers have to go to a conference meeting to tell the judge nothing is going on, the judge goes on with the case. Remember, all that costs money. Therefore, more and more debt is piling up.

Going to Divorce Court

This is the primary source of high costs in divorce. There are many instances when you have to pay your lawyer as indicated below: ● Every time the lawyer has to get ready for a contested hearing ● Everytime the lawyers meet and talk ● Every time lawyers write letters to each other The court process is very expensive to deal with your divorce. Thankfully, these days there are alternatives where you don’t have to litigate your divorce. Options like mediation and collaborative divorce go a long way in helping you save money. But don’t get your head over heels on this one. It is also costly.

In this case, if your spouse fails to be reasonable and maybe delay the process, you are definitely going to experience a high shoot in your costs. If you or your spouse drags his or her feet in delivering financial information, the costs will definitely go high. The worst case scenario is when your spouse refuses to produce financial information or either you or your spouse actively hides the money, both mediation and collaborative divorce does not work at all.

You definitely have to move to a new place after divorce. How much will the new place cost? You may be required to pay 2 to 3 months security before moving in. In some situations, the house you get becomes more expensive than the previous house. Remember, may be in the previous house you were sharing costs with your spouse. Now you have to do it solely. Remember, you have to move your things to the new house. You will require moving fees, furniture, extra cutlery, cleaning supplies as well as entertainment money. This is quite expensive. Don’t forget laundry costs and hiring cleaners to clean your new house. Alimony and child support After divorce, you may be forced to pay alimony and child support. Alimony is also known as spousal support to one of the former spouses. It is based on the decision by the couple themselves or an order from the court. It is used to compensate any divorce charges to the non-wage earning or the spouse earning a lower amount. One spouse may have been forced to forego their career and support the family and may need time to develop other job skills and get a new job to support themselves. It is also used in order to help one spouse continue the standard of living that was there during their marriage.

When a married couple divorces, the parent who does not take the custody of the child might be forced by the government to pay some part of his or her earnings as child support. If you are making child support, you should take it seriously because failure to do so, you may negatively affect your credit score and if it becomes serious, you may even end up in jail. Child support mandates you to pay for summer camp, tuition fees, college funds, after school activities, and upkeep funds.

More Costs

Yes, you need more than a lawyer. Due to the detailed processes, you may be required to hire an accountant to cater for your financial issues and budget them well. That is labor and you have to pay them. You may think that a lawyer is enough to tell you the figures you need but an accountant would validate each dollar spent. There are also filing fees, and extra charges like printing required documents, paying the driver or taking a cab to court every time you have a case. At some point, you have to chip in and buy a meal for one person or two after the court proceedings. There are quite a large number of those little expenses people overlook. Yes, they may cost you a lot. Finances are quite a blow during divorce. It can cost you as much as you used to pay for mortgage. If your spouse decides to be a jerk, then you might be tempted to be a jerk too and drag the divorce process.

The simplest way of making divorce less expensive is not to divorce at all. Here are tips on how to evade divorce: ● Marry your friend – marriage is a tough road to walk. Walking it with someone who is not your friend can be a very tough experience. A friend will be able to endure the tough storms that come through. ● Solve the small misunderstandings – divorce is brought about by the little misunderstandings between couples. If you spot a misunderstanding, sit down, hold a conversation and solve the problem at hand. ● Live within your means – stretching beyond what you can afford as a couple can bring financial misunderstandings. Live within your means. Take your kids to a school you can afford. Live in an affordable neighbourhood. This way, you can build an empire together and develop smoothly. ● Watch the nature of your spouse before getting married – before you go down on one knee and before you reach a stage of saying yes, learn your partner’s behavior and understand them. Have an open mind and be ready to put up with behaviors you do not like.

In situations where marriage becomes unbearable and you have to divorce, then below are tips to make your divorce less expensive: Exchange your information voluntarily instead of through formal discovery There are some information required during divorce like disclosure of assets, property and taxes. If you use formal discovery, this process is quite expensive and time-consuming because you may need to do interrogations and depositions. These processes will need the presence of an attorney and as discussed earlier, attorneys are very expensive. Just offer your required documents voluntarily and make the process cheaper and less time-consuming.

Understand your divorce attorney’s role

I understand that it can be quite an emotional challenge to talk to your spouse when undergoing divorce. However, it can be less expensive to exchange information among yourselves instead of using an attorney. Attorneys make excellent advisers and they have a good understanding of the law and the procedures needed but you don’t have to have an attorney. You can choose to just communicate on the basic stuff with your attorney. But if communicating with your spouse will elongate, then you can choose to lean on your attorney to fasten the process.

Keep your money separate during marriage

When you marry someone, you can keep some of your property personal and separate from your spouse. Anything that you owned before marriage inclusive of inheritance, gifts and other possessions. Any profits you acquire through your assets are solely yours.

You can keep these in a separate account during marriage. This will fasten the divorce process and it will be a cheaper process since it will be easier to see which assets belong to you and make the lengthy and costly court proceedings become less.

Communicate with your attorney

Talking about your divorce can be so hard but expressing your thoughts clearly through your attorney regarding the proceedings can help make sure that you are on the same page. Your attorney will never know if they are representing your best interests unless you take time and speak to them about the details. Do not fear criticism and judgement from the person who is there to protect you. If you are forthright, you will be in a position to streamline your divorce process.

Remember, it is not only your finances that will be a burden. Remember the emotional turmoil that you will go through. Never forget that this might lead you into depression. The therapist visits you will need to get out of the situation may be too costly. Stomach ulcers are also real. There are more diseases that you can get from the stress undergone during divorce. These may send you to hospital and you will encounter more bills over there.

Your children will also be affected. It is not easy for kids to see their parents separate. They take long to adapt to living with one parent. Their performance in school may be adversely affected. Again, they may find it hard to share what they are going through with their friends. How do they end up? In depression. More and more bills.

Remember, your financial strength is what makes you develop in life. Choose the right method if you have to divorce. Otherwise do not divorce at all. If you have to divorce, follow the tips that I have highlighted above and you will be able to save some cash for your financial strength even to be able to meet the bills after you have officially separated with your spouse..

Is divorce expensive? The fact remains: yes, it can be, if you fight, it surely will be. If you go to trial, divorce is very expensive. Plan yourself wisely, marry wisely, budget wisely, and live wisely. Conduct your court proceedings wisely too.

Divorce Lawyer Free Consultation

When you need legal help for a divorce case in Utah, please call Ascent Law at (801) 676-5506. We will help you.

Ascent Law LLC 8833 S. Redwood Road, Suite C West Jordan, Utah 84088 United States Telephone: (801) 676-5506

Ascent Law LLC

4.9 stars – based on 67 reviews

Recent Posts

Corporate Lawyer Provo Utah

Family Businesses and Estate Planning

Debt and Bankruptcy

Kids and Divorce

Counterfeiting Legal Defense in Utah

Deadliest Days in Utah

Source: https://www.ascentlawfirm.com/are-divorces-expensive/

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Are Divorces Expensive?

This is a question that lingers in many people’s minds. Are divorces expensive? The answer is Maybe. There is an impression that divorce comes along with a hefty price tag. This impression has proven to be true some of the time but the price tag is not only placed on money alone but also other factors of life.

Then why is it so expensive to get out of an unhappy marriage? Divorce leaves you with a financial blow that will take you 10 years to recover. Can you imagine having to toil for 10 years in order to recover and catch up with your financial life? Yes, it is a bitter pill but you have to swallow it. Continue reading the article to get a clearer picture on why divorce is so expensive.

Failure to be Reasonable in Divorce

Being unreasonable in divorce results to an endless circle of costs and craziness. As you become more unreasonable in divorce, you continue fighting with your spouse. These fights are more emotionally invested. The more you fight, the more emotionally drained you become. The more emotionally invested you become, the less reasonable you become. And the cycle goes on and on. The main reason behind fighting is for one of you to win. But here is the truth: no one wins in divorce.

You should be focusing on how to divide your property and other stuff or how to take care of the kids instead of fighting to win because in fighting, you both get to lose. The bottom line behind this is that the more you fight, the more compromising you become and since this happens in court, your charges become higher everyday, then you end up losing a lot. You definitely know that going to court is one of the primary ways used to make divorce more expensive.

Dragging out Discovery in Divorce

Discovery in divorce is a process where you and your spouse get to know information about one another in your divorce. Depending on where you live, this process entails filling out financial affidavits which have full information. In this case, you will be expected to produce some financial documents like bank statements, tax returns, as well as other financial documents. In this case, you may be required to answer very detailed financial questions or present yourself for a deposition.

The process of discovery is quite expensive. It does not only require you to produce, analyze and organize your information, you are also required to have an approval from your lawyer. Most lawyers charge around $300 – $500 per hour. If you drag the process, then this can amount to millions of dollars in a very short duration.

If you take your process faster but your spouse drags his or her process, the process takes longer and more money builds up. Every time the lawyers have to present themselves in court and compel you or your spouse to give out your financial information, more money is added. And every time the lawyers have to go to a conference meeting to tell the judge nothing is going on, the judge goes on with the case. Remember, all that costs money. Therefore, more and more debt is piling up.

Going to Divorce Court

This is the primary source of high costs in divorce. There are many instances when you have to pay your lawyer as indicated below: ● Every time the lawyer has to get ready for a contested hearing ● Everytime the lawyers meet and talk ● Every time lawyers write letters to each other The court process is very expensive to deal with your divorce. Thankfully, these days there are alternatives where you don’t have to litigate your divorce. Options like mediation and collaborative divorce go a long way in helping you save money. But don’t get your head over heels on this one. It is also costly.

In this case, if your spouse fails to be reasonable and maybe delay the process, you are definitely going to experience a high shoot in your costs. If you or your spouse drags his or her feet in delivering financial information, the costs will definitely go high. The worst case scenario is when your spouse refuses to produce financial information or either you or your spouse actively hides the money, both mediation and collaborative divorce does not work at all.

You definitely have to move to a new place after divorce. How much will the new place cost? You may be required to pay 2 to 3 months security before moving in. In some situations, the house you get becomes more expensive than the previous house. Remember, may be in the previous house you were sharing costs with your spouse. Now you have to do it solely. Remember, you have to move your things to the new house. You will require moving fees, furniture, extra cutlery, cleaning supplies as well as entertainment money. This is quite expensive. Don’t forget laundry costs and hiring cleaners to clean your new house. Alimony and child support After divorce, you may be forced to pay alimony and child support. Alimony is also known as spousal support to one of the former spouses. It is based on the decision by the couple themselves or an order from the court. It is used to compensate any divorce charges to the non-wage earning or the spouse earning a lower amount. One spouse may have been forced to forego their career and support the family and may need time to develop other job skills and get a new job to support themselves. It is also used in order to help one spouse continue the standard of living that was there during their marriage.

When a married couple divorces, the parent who does not take the custody of the child might be forced by the government to pay some part of his or her earnings as child support. If you are making child support, you should take it seriously because failure to do so, you may negatively affect your credit score and if it becomes serious, you may even end up in jail. Child support mandates you to pay for summer camp, tuition fees, college funds, after school activities, and upkeep funds.

More Costs

Yes, you need more than a lawyer. Due to the detailed processes, you may be required to hire an accountant to cater for your financial issues and budget them well. That is labor and you have to pay them. You may think that a lawyer is enough to tell you the figures you need but an accountant would validate each dollar spent. There are also filing fees, and extra charges like printing required documents, paying the driver or taking a cab to court every time you have a case. At some point, you have to chip in and buy a meal for one person or two after the court proceedings. There are quite a large number of those little expenses people overlook. Yes, they may cost you a lot. Finances are quite a blow during divorce. It can cost you as much as you used to pay for mortgage. If your spouse decides to be a jerk, then you might be tempted to be a jerk too and drag the divorce process.

The simplest way of making divorce less expensive is not to divorce at all. Here are tips on how to evade divorce: ● Marry your friend – marriage is a tough road to walk. Walking it with someone who is not your friend can be a very tough experience. A friend will be able to endure the tough storms that come through. ● Solve the small misunderstandings – divorce is brought about by the little misunderstandings between couples. If you spot a misunderstanding, sit down, hold a conversation and solve the problem at hand. ● Live within your means – stretching beyond what you can afford as a couple can bring financial misunderstandings. Live within your means. Take your kids to a school you can afford. Live in an affordable neighbourhood. This way, you can build an empire together and develop smoothly. ● Watch the nature of your spouse before getting married – before you go down on one knee and before you reach a stage of saying yes, learn your partner’s behavior and understand them. Have an open mind and be ready to put up with behaviors you do not like.

In situations where marriage becomes unbearable and you have to divorce, then below are tips to make your divorce less expensive: Exchange your information voluntarily instead of through formal discovery There are some information required during divorce like disclosure of assets, property and taxes. If you use formal discovery, this process is quite expensive and time-consuming because you may need to do interrogations and depositions. These processes will need the presence of an attorney and as discussed earlier, attorneys are very expensive. Just offer your required documents voluntarily and make the process cheaper and less time-consuming.

Understand your divorce attorney’s role

I understand that it can be quite an emotional challenge to talk to your spouse when undergoing divorce. However, it can be less expensive to exchange information among yourselves instead of using an attorney. Attorneys make excellent advisers and they have a good understanding of the law and the procedures needed but you don’t have to have an attorney. You can choose to just communicate on the basic stuff with your attorney. But if communicating with your spouse will elongate, then you can choose to lean on your attorney to fasten the process.

Keep your money separate during marriage

When you marry someone, you can keep some of your property personal and separate from your spouse. Anything that you owned before marriage inclusive of inheritance, gifts and other possessions. Any profits you acquire through your assets are solely yours.

You can keep these in a separate account during marriage. This will fasten the divorce process and it will be a cheaper process since it will be easier to see which assets belong to you and make the lengthy and costly court proceedings become less.

Communicate with your attorney

Talking about your divorce can be so hard but expressing your thoughts clearly through your attorney regarding the proceedings can help make sure that you are on the same page. Your attorney will never know if they are representing your best interests unless you take time and speak to them about the details. Do not fear criticism and judgement from the person who is there to protect you. If you are forthright, you will be in a position to streamline your divorce process.

Remember, it is not only your finances that will be a burden. Remember the emotional turmoil that you will go through. Never forget that this might lead you into depression. The therapist visits you will need to get out of the situation may be too costly. Stomach ulcers are also real. There are more diseases that you can get from the stress undergone during divorce. These may send you to hospital and you will encounter more bills over there.

Your children will also be affected. It is not easy for kids to see their parents separate. They take long to adapt to living with one parent. Their performance in school may be adversely affected. Again, they may find it hard to share what they are going through with their friends. How do they end up? In depression. More and more bills.

Remember, your financial strength is what makes you develop in life. Choose the right method if you have to divorce. Otherwise do not divorce at all. If you have to divorce, follow the tips that I have highlighted above and you will be able to save some cash for your financial strength even to be able to meet the bills after you have officially separated with your spouse..

Is divorce expensive? The fact remains: yes, it can be, if you fight, it surely will be. If you go to trial, divorce is very expensive. Plan yourself wisely, marry wisely, budget wisely, and live wisely. Conduct your court proceedings wisely too.

Divorce Lawyer Free Consultation

When you need legal help for a divorce case in Utah, please call Ascent Law at (801) 676-5506. We will help you.

Ascent Law LLC 8833 S. Redwood Road, Suite C West Jordan, Utah 84088 United States Telephone: (801) 676-5506

Ascent Law LLC

4.9 stars – based on 67 reviews

Recent Posts

Corporate Lawyer Provo Utah

Family Businesses and Estate Planning

Debt and Bankruptcy

Kids and Divorce

Counterfeiting Legal Defense in Utah

Deadliest Days in Utah

from Michael Anderson https://www.ascentlawfirm.com/are-divorces-expensive/ from Divorce Lawyer Nelson Farms Utah https://divorcelawyernelsonfarmsutah.tumblr.com/post/186294987960

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Are Divorces Expensive?

This is a question that lingers in many people’s minds. Are divorces expensive? The answer is Maybe. There is an impression that divorce comes along with a hefty price tag. This impression has proven to be true some of the time but the price tag is not only placed on money alone but also other factors of life.

Then why is it so expensive to get out of an unhappy marriage? Divorce leaves you with a financial blow that will take you 10 years to recover. Can you imagine having to toil for 10 years in order to recover and catch up with your financial life? Yes, it is a bitter pill but you have to swallow it. Continue reading the article to get a clearer picture on why divorce is so expensive.

Failure to be Reasonable in Divorce

Being unreasonable in divorce results to an endless circle of costs and craziness. As you become more unreasonable in divorce, you continue fighting with your spouse. These fights are more emotionally invested. The more you fight, the more emotionally drained you become. The more emotionally invested you become, the less reasonable you become. And the cycle goes on and on. The main reason behind fighting is for one of you to win. But here is the truth: no one wins in divorce.

You should be focusing on how to divide your property and other stuff or how to take care of the kids instead of fighting to win because in fighting, you both get to lose. The bottom line behind this is that the more you fight, the more compromising you become and since this happens in court, your charges become higher everyday, then you end up losing a lot. You definitely know that going to court is one of the primary ways used to make divorce more expensive.

Dragging out Discovery in Divorce

Discovery in divorce is a process where you and your spouse get to know information about one another in your divorce. Depending on where you live, this process entails filling out financial affidavits which have full information. In this case, you will be expected to produce some financial documents like bank statements, tax returns, as well as other financial documents. In this case, you may be required to answer very detailed financial questions or present yourself for a deposition.

The process of discovery is quite expensive. It does not only require you to produce, analyze and organize your information, you are also required to have an approval from your lawyer. Most lawyers charge around $300 – $500 per hour. If you drag the process, then this can amount to millions of dollars in a very short duration.

If you take your process faster but your spouse drags his or her process, the process takes longer and more money builds up. Every time the lawyers have to present themselves in court and compel you or your spouse to give out your financial information, more money is added. And every time the lawyers have to go to a conference meeting to tell the judge nothing is going on, the judge goes on with the case. Remember, all that costs money. Therefore, more and more debt is piling up.

Going to Divorce Court

This is the primary source of high costs in divorce. There are many instances when you have to pay your lawyer as indicated below: ● Every time the lawyer has to get ready for a contested hearing ● Everytime the lawyers meet and talk ● Every time lawyers write letters to each other The court process is very expensive to deal with your divorce. Thankfully, these days there are alternatives where you don’t have to litigate your divorce. Options like mediation and collaborative divorce go a long way in helping you save money. But don’t get your head over heels on this one. It is also costly.

In this case, if your spouse fails to be reasonable and maybe delay the process, you are definitely going to experience a high shoot in your costs. If you or your spouse drags his or her feet in delivering financial information, the costs will definitely go high. The worst case scenario is when your spouse refuses to produce financial information or either you or your spouse actively hides the money, both mediation and collaborative divorce does not work at all.

You definitely have to move to a new place after divorce. How much will the new place cost? You may be required to pay 2 to 3 months security before moving in. In some situations, the house you get becomes more expensive than the previous house. Remember, may be in the previous house you were sharing costs with your spouse. Now you have to do it solely. Remember, you have to move your things to the new house. You will require moving fees, furniture, extra cutlery, cleaning supplies as well as entertainment money. This is quite expensive. Don’t forget laundry costs and hiring cleaners to clean your new house. Alimony and child support After divorce, you may be forced to pay alimony and child support. Alimony is also known as spousal support to one of the former spouses. It is based on the decision by the couple themselves or an order from the court. It is used to compensate any divorce charges to the non-wage earning or the spouse earning a lower amount. One spouse may have been forced to forego their career and support the family and may need time to develop other job skills and get a new job to support themselves. It is also used in order to help one spouse continue the standard of living that was there during their marriage.

When a married couple divorces, the parent who does not take the custody of the child might be forced by the government to pay some part of his or her earnings as child support. If you are making child support, you should take it seriously because failure to do so, you may negatively affect your credit score and if it becomes serious, you may even end up in jail. Child support mandates you to pay for summer camp, tuition fees, college funds, after school activities, and upkeep funds.

More Costs

Yes, you need more than a lawyer. Due to the detailed processes, you may be required to hire an accountant to cater for your financial issues and budget them well. That is labor and you have to pay them. You may think that a lawyer is enough to tell you the figures you need but an accountant would validate each dollar spent. There are also filing fees, and extra charges like printing required documents, paying the driver or taking a cab to court every time you have a case. At some point, you have to chip in and buy a meal for one person or two after the court proceedings. There are quite a large number of those little expenses people overlook. Yes, they may cost you a lot. Finances are quite a blow during divorce. It can cost you as much as you used to pay for mortgage. If your spouse decides to be a jerk, then you might be tempted to be a jerk too and drag the divorce process.

The simplest way of making divorce less expensive is not to divorce at all. Here are tips on how to evade divorce: ● Marry your friend – marriage is a tough road to walk. Walking it with someone who is not your friend can be a very tough experience. A friend will be able to endure the tough storms that come through. ● Solve the small misunderstandings – divorce is brought about by the little misunderstandings between couples. If you spot a misunderstanding, sit down, hold a conversation and solve the problem at hand. ● Live within your means – stretching beyond what you can afford as a couple can bring financial misunderstandings. Live within your means. Take your kids to a school you can afford. Live in an affordable neighbourhood. This way, you can build an empire together and develop smoothly. ● Watch the nature of your spouse before getting married – before you go down on one knee and before you reach a stage of saying yes, learn your partner’s behavior and understand them. Have an open mind and be ready to put up with behaviors you do not like.

In situations where marriage becomes unbearable and you have to divorce, then below are tips to make your divorce less expensive: Exchange your information voluntarily instead of through formal discovery There are some information required during divorce like disclosure of assets, property and taxes. If you use formal discovery, this process is quite expensive and time-consuming because you may need to do interrogations and depositions. These processes will need the presence of an attorney and as discussed earlier, attorneys are very expensive. Just offer your required documents voluntarily and make the process cheaper and less time-consuming.

Understand your divorce attorney’s role

I understand that it can be quite an emotional challenge to talk to your spouse when undergoing divorce. However, it can be less expensive to exchange information among yourselves instead of using an attorney. Attorneys make excellent advisers and they have a good understanding of the law and the procedures needed but you don’t have to have an attorney. You can choose to just communicate on the basic stuff with your attorney. But if communicating with your spouse will elongate, then you can choose to lean on your attorney to fasten the process.

Keep your money separate during marriage

When you marry someone, you can keep some of your property personal and separate from your spouse. Anything that you owned before marriage inclusive of inheritance, gifts and other possessions. Any profits you acquire through your assets are solely yours.

You can keep these in a separate account during marriage. This will fasten the divorce process and it will be a cheaper process since it will be easier to see which assets belong to you and make the lengthy and costly court proceedings become less.

Communicate with your attorney

Talking about your divorce can be so hard but expressing your thoughts clearly through your attorney regarding the proceedings can help make sure that you are on the same page. Your attorney will never know if they are representing your best interests unless you take time and speak to them about the details. Do not fear criticism and judgement from the person who is there to protect you. If you are forthright, you will be in a position to streamline your divorce process.

Remember, it is not only your finances that will be a burden. Remember the emotional turmoil that you will go through. Never forget that this might lead you into depression. The therapist visits you will need to get out of the situation may be too costly. Stomach ulcers are also real. There are more diseases that you can get from the stress undergone during divorce. These may send you to hospital and you will encounter more bills over there.

Your children will also be affected. It is not easy for kids to see their parents separate. They take long to adapt to living with one parent. Their performance in school may be adversely affected. Again, they may find it hard to share what they are going through with their friends. How do they end up? In depression. More and more bills.

Remember, your financial strength is what makes you develop in life. Choose the right method if you have to divorce. Otherwise do not divorce at all. If you have to divorce, follow the tips that I have highlighted above and you will be able to save some cash for your financial strength even to be able to meet the bills after you have officially separated with your spouse..

Is divorce expensive? The fact remains: yes, it can be, if you fight, it surely will be. If you go to trial, divorce is very expensive. Plan yourself wisely, marry wisely, budget wisely, and live wisely. Conduct your court proceedings wisely too.

Divorce Lawyer Free Consultation

When you need legal help for a divorce case in Utah, please call Ascent Law at (801) 676-5506. We will help you.

Ascent Law LLC 8833 S. Redwood Road, Suite C West Jordan, Utah 84088 United States Telephone: (801) 676-5506

Ascent Law LLC

4.9 stars – based on 67 reviews

Recent Posts

Corporate Lawyer Provo Utah

Family Businesses and Estate Planning

Debt and Bankruptcy

Kids and Divorce

Counterfeiting Legal Defense in Utah

Deadliest Days in Utah

Source: https://www.ascentlawfirm.com/are-divorces-expensive/