#i would of liked it if kieran was nervous about being a third in such a close relationship

[harmonicaorange]

i cant believe how surprised i am at the amount of hate twotq got because of the joining and the possibility of poppy cas and kieran becoming a throuple. like that sounds like fantastic news to me!

[istrawberry]

Chapter 3. 2022.7.3

The night of the finals, raining unstoppably.

The plum rain season arrived with a hushed elegance, leaving one ill-prepared for its onslaught. Raindrops cascaded upon the windows of the bus making its homeward journey. Kieran leaned ever so greatly against the windowpane on this day of his birth. Hie phone was filled with comforting and praising messages from old teammates, friends, and his family. He hadn’t responded to any.

Upon entering room, Kieran cleaned up, and collapsed into bed. He left his birthday cake untouched, on the small table by the table. Landon checked his phone; it was July 3rd, and Kieran’s birthday had just passed a few hours ago. When they returned to the hotel, Kieran had laughed and reassured them that it didn’t matter – there was no shame in being the runner-up. After all, he had three runner-up titles now.

Landon, finally, succumbed to sleep, accompanied by the gentle rain that fell outside. But he couldn't rest easy; images of defeat swarmed his mind as the congratulatory cheers of the victories and the exuberant applause of the crowd cased his head to pain. Only two hours, Landon awakened and gazed at the pitch-black ceiling and turned to find Kieran. But there is nothing on his bed, the night breeze seeping in through a partially closed window.

Alarmed, Landon got up and saw a sliver of light from the slightly open bathroom door, revealing the trace of the missing person. Drawing closer, he saw Kieran silently crouching on the bathroom floor, more than half of him concealed in shadows.

Landon couldn’t tell if Kieran has been crying, but it was on the night that Landon finally understood. After all, Riven was just an ordinary solider of Noxus. She wasn’t the god, but being of flesh and blood with a hear that would long for the crescent moon of Noxus when faced with unfamiliar accents of a foreign land. She couldn’t serve her ties with Noxus completely, as she couldn’t abandon her broken sword.

Kieran wasn't a god. He couldn't always protect everyone, and he couldn't always play flawlessly. He was human, a top player who occasionally lost his rhythm, who fell silent and didn't want to talk because of a runner-up.

The memory of watching pervious finals emerges, Landon has witnessed Kieran’s failures and victories. This time, Landon could clearly see Kieran’s figure as he walked off the stage for the third time. Landon opened the bathroom door and quietly crouched beside Kieran.

"I was too nervous today, I made mistakes. Next time, I won't be like this."

Kieran remained still, the only light in the bathroom casting a large shadow beneath his eyes.  Suddenly, he sniffled, and Landon scrambled, thinking Kieran was about to cry.

"Next time, we definitely can." Landon assured him, unsure of how to comfort others. However, this silent, uncommunicated Kieran was a rarity, and Landon found himself at a loss.

Kieran's response was silence, burying his head deeper and hiding the shadows under his eyes.

"Help me up, my legs are numb."

As expected, Kieran ended up in an embrace. He didn't know if Landon had cried before him.

The sole, warm, and golden light gently cascaded upon them, twirling at the tips of their hair.

In the end, Kieran understood that Landon had always been by his side.

Riven had exiled herself to the village of Ionia, where, despite being a stranger in a foreign land, she discovered new soil to call home. She had wandered for too long, but at last, she was no longer a solitary drifting reed. Ionia had become her newfound.

Riven had found a new family and home; and just like her, so had Kieran.

[kassies-take]

Hey Pretty Stranger

Summary: Kara always wanted to introduce her little sister, you, and Lena together due to the fact that she thinks you two would get along very well. There is finally a time when both you and Lena can make game night. Little does she or the rest of super-friends know that the two of you have already met, multiple times. 

A/n: Yes another BabyDanvers story, but y’all can’t deny that you wouldn’t want to be a Danvers and date the Goddess that is Lena Luthor. 

Warning: Secrecy 

Lena Luthor x Fem!Reader, Kara Danvers x Reader, Alex Danvers x Reader 

Word Count: 3099

A beam of sun and a grumble next to you, woke you up from your sleep. Your naked body tangled with another. Your arms wrapped around the woman’s pale but soft shoulders, as she laid on your breast. 

The brunette ran her hand up and down your torso, you didn’t know if she was awake or if she was doing it unconsciously. 

You sat at a bar just right out of National City. Your expedition in Peru didn’t end well, and here you were, home early and scribbling something on a napkin. 

“I don’t mean to spy but are you making a robot?”

“Exploration droid. Records what you find, holds various tools, hologram projector for those needed debriefs and maybe a healing drug if I can make it.” 

“And why are you telling me all this? Aren’t you afraid I might steal it?” 

“Definitely worth it, if a pretty stranger like you takes it. I should at least get one for free.”

You both smiled at each other, an obvious blush between the both of you. The silence was soon broken when a bartender stood in front of you two. 

“What can I get you ladies?” 

“Whiskey Sour, with bourbon whiskey.” You spoke in sync with the woman next to you before the two broke out into smiles again. 

Once the bartender prepared the drinks and moved to the next customers, the other decided to break the silence. 

“You drink a lot of Whiskey Sours after every expedition?” 

“Oh yes, nothing like whiskey after an adventure like Indy.” You joked. 

“I take it your adventures aren’t so, breathtaking?” 

“It’s not fun when you have a new crew every so often. And I haven’t seen friends or family in a year and a half.

“Well I’ll be happy to join your crew, need a break from city life anyways.” She sipped. “I’m-” 

“If it’s okay if we keep the names a secret?”

“Don’t want people knowing who you are?” She smirked.

“Well I don’t mind telling anyone my name but it keeps the whole mystery thing up. And people tend to judge based on the name. Someone always has something to say. Plus I would really like to know you from you and not anyone else.”

“I know how you feel.”

“And I won’t be tempted to Google you.” You smiled.

“So if family or work ever come up we’ll just get rid of the names too. Then you won’t be tempted to Google me.”

The two of you continued to flirt and talk till the morning, thus sparked a friendship between the CEO and the explorer.

It was never planned but the two met up every Friday for about a month. Each week spent with countless hours talking to each other. It didn’t get further beside talking and flirting but it was still worth it.

It was the third week in when things began to escalate a little.

“Hey pretty stranger,” you leaned against the counter top. “Hard whiskey today, hard day?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Business partners turned down an offer mainly because I’m a woman and a Lu- because of my last name.”

“That sucks... aren’t you the CEO?”

“Just because I’m a CEO does not mean I can spend money willy nilly.”

“You did not just say willy nilly.” You chuckled, the brunette’s lips curled into a smile. “Well I think it’s cute. After you of course.”

“Can I get your number?” Your eyes widened at the abrupt question. “We already know each other’s fears and secrets, what is your number going to change? I promise I won’t Google it.” She raised eyebrows, no matter how many times she did that your breath would still get caught in your throat.

“You’re not going to let me live that down are you.”

“Nope.”

“If I give you my number, will you let me take you on a date?”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

“That was a very fast answer,” You chucked as the paler woman blushed. “How about you give me your phone, contact app opened and I’ll put my number in.”

Lena called you the moment you gave her phone back. “I had to check if it was real.”

“Now it just means I have to pick up your calls if we’re continuing the nameless.”

You put her contact as ‘Pretty Stranger’ still not knowing each other’s name.

“I’ll text you the information by the end of tonight.” She got up and grabbed her bag.

“You’re leaving now?”

“I’ve got planning to do,” She kisses your cheek before she purposely swayed her hips and walked away.

“I thought I was asking her out on a date.” You mumbled to yourself.

~~~~~

Your jaw dropped at the black pantsuit that hugged her curves in the right places. She strutted towards you with a smirk on her face. Her fingertips ghostly touched your chin and closed your mouth.

“You’ll catch flies, darling.” Her eyes landed on the single purple rose you were holding. “Is that for me?”

“Oh uh, yeah.” You gave her the flower as the heat rose to your face.

“Reservation for Kieran Thorul, party of two?” The hostess called out.

“That’s us,” the businesswoman took your hand.

“Kieran Thorul?”

“Don’t get your hopes up, you won’t be able to Google that. Fake name.”

“What are you thinking about, pretty stranger?” The voice disrupted your thoughts.

“Thinking about how we met. Is it wrong that I know so much about you but I still don’t know your name?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Her smile reached up to her emerald eyes. “You’re a beautiful woman, and we’ve talked for a little more than a full day since we met.”

“Are you counting hours?”

“What can I do, I’m a scientist and a businesswoman. All we do is count numbers.”

Your phone rang on the nightstand beside you.

“Cool expedition?”

The scientist lifted herself off you so you could reach your phone. The two of you readjusted to fit in each other’s arms.

“My oldest sister, actually.” You answered the phone knowing Alex would continue to call unless you picked up.

‘What’s up?’

‘You’re needed at Kara’s tonight.’

‘Why did something happen?’ You sat up as your company also received a call.

‘No, we just miss you. We know your expedition didn’t go the way it was planned, so we gave you time. It’s been almost two years since we saw you.’

‘I love exploring, sis.’

‘Maybe you can explore with the D.E.O. We could use someone like you on recon missions.’

‘I don’t know, you know the whole agency thing isn’t my gig.’

‘Think about it alright. Sister night tonight.’

‘Yeah, okay I’ll see you there.’

You and Lena ended the call around the same time.

“My sister reminded me of a family gathering I forgot about.”

“I’m needed at my friend’s place.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just nervous. It’s the first time in a while I’m hanging out with the group again.”

“Feel free to call me if you need to.”

You climbed up the stairs towards Kara’s place. You could feel your sister’s excitement when you reached her floor. Mainly because she ran down the hall just to hug you. The blond lifted you off the ground while the red haired stayed at the door.

“Not going to greet your baby sister?” You teased while you walked towards Kara’s place as Kara clung to your arm.

“No I will, just after this puppy moves away.” Alex forcefully pulled Kara off your arms.

“I want to show you something, we’re gonna keep this on the down side cause it’s not exactly finished.”

“You stole something?” Kara grasped.

“You have to tell me everything!” Alex jumped.

“I did not steal it, I made it.” You pulled out the napkin and placed it on the table.

“Wait hold up,” Alex took the napkin to inspect it. You thought she was admiring the droid blueprints but you were wrong. “Is that lipstick?”

“It was nice meeting you,” Kara read.

The two looked up at you and began to tease you. Kara with her big smile and Alex with raising both her eyebrows.

“Are you just going to ignore the droid?”

“Uh yeah! The droid can wait! Whose lipstick is this!” Kara beamed.

“More importantly did you get her number,” Alex smirked.

“She helped with the schematics.” You rubbed your neck.

“Her heart rate is up,” Kara mumbled before Alex pounced. You dodged and ran around before Kara tackled you.

Alex tilted your head up and gave you a cheeky smile.

“Is that a hickey?” Kara smiled.

“So something good did come from the expedition,” Alex smacked your shoulder.

“Get off me and I’ll tell you,” you lied, but it did get Kara and Alex off you.

The moment you stood up your phone rang on the counter. The three of you raced towards it, it wasn’t fair that Kara had super speed.

“Ooh Pretty Stranger! Alex catch!” Kara threw your phone towards Alex.

“Alex give it back, I’ll tell you about it after the call.” You asked slowly.

Alex tossed you your phone as you answered and walked towards Kara’s room. “Don’t eavesdrop!” You pointed at the two. “I’m serious.”

‘Hey.”

‘Is everything alright?’

‘My sisters are being ASSHOLES,’ you said loud enough so they could hear without super hearing.

You smiled at the chuckle on the other line.

‘I’m really nervous about seeing everyone again.’

‘If it makes you feel any better, I was going to show my sister the exploration droid and they saw your lipstick mark. And apparently I have a hickey on my neck.’

‘That sounds fun,’ you heard the smirk.

‘I was tackled by my sisters, not that fun. And if anything your friends should be nervous seeing you again. Who wouldn’t be, knowing they would see a goddess again.’

‘Is that why you were catching flies yesterday?’ She teased.

‘Guilty, but I recall you kissed me first.’

‘You were the one who showed your sisters the lipstick mark.’

‘I showed them the droid not the mark.’

‘This conversation definitely brought up my mood.’

‘Whenever I talk to you, that’s all that happens. I can’t stop smiling, and everything seems to just go away.’

‘It’s the same for me when I talk to you.’

“STOP FLIRTING AND GET OUT HERE!” Alex pounded on the door.

‘Seems like you are needed.’

‘If you ever need a breather, feel free to step out and call me. Your friends will understand if you need a breather.’

‘Okay I’ll call you later. I think you better go before someone breaks down that door of yours.

‘Bye, I’ll see you soon.’

You returned to the living room with J’onn and three new faces.

“You’re done with flirting great,” Alex dragged you to the kitchen.

“Kelly this is my baby sister (Y/n), (Y/n) this is my girlfriend Kelly.”

“Hi nice to meet you.” The dark skinned lady waved.

“Is Alex treating you okay? Do I need to beat her up?”

“Oh please, like you can.”

“You’ll be surprised.”

“I don’t mean to intrude on sisterly rivalry, but I’m Nia, I work with Kara at Catco.”

“(Y/n), the one turning down Alex’s job offer.”

“I calculate a 94% chance of you enjoying working with Director Danvers at the D.E.O. I’m Brainy 12th level intellect.”

“The other 6% is Alex yelling at me to do something.”

“That’s exactly it, I like this one.” Brainy smiled at Alex.

You pulled on Alex’s collar while everyone else headed towards the living room.

“I thought you said it was sister night?”

“If I told you it was game night would you have came?”

“No.”

“Exactly my point.”

It wasn’t game night unless Monopoly was in play. You groaned, you were never good at this game. But Monopoly Deal is different from Monopoly, in the sense that there is no paper money, plastic houses or hotels, the board or game pieces just the cards.

Two games were played before Trivia Pursuit was played. Brainy won the first round and you didn’t even know you won the second round with everyone sharing their day’s experience. When it came to geography and history it was easy, and after several rounds you needed one last piece to win and that was in the category of entertainment. Let’s just say because you spent your free time in the jungle you didn’t get the entertainment piece, and Brainy won.

Alex threw her pieces on the table, stomping to the kitchen to fill her glass.There was a knock at the door a little over an hour from the start of game night.

You were getting along with Kara’s and Alex’s friends, especially Kelly. That maybe had something to do with Kelly being a peoples person. Despite the interaction with the ‘pretty stranger’ you didn’t really like to interact with people you didn’t know, well actually you didn’t know how to interact with Kara’s and Alex’s friends. There was this certain expectation from them that you could live up to. J’onn recognized your tense shoulders and gave them a squeeze before you jumped up and headed towards the door behind Kara.

“Lena! It’s good to see you!” Kara hugged the brunette.

When they separated you made eye contact with her. You both froze, you could feel your heart pound while your cheeks heated up. Your breath once again caught, and she was only in jeans and a sweater this time.

“Lena, this is baby Danvers, (Y/n).”

“Hi...” you continued to stare until Kara cleared her throat. “I-uh would you like a drink?” You asked.

“After you get your drink, you can join us for Uno.”

You moved to the counter with Lena beside you.

“So (Y/n) Danvers huh. Would’ve never guessed that.”

“You’re Lena Luthor.”

“I hope that doesn’t change anything.”

“No! You’re incredible. I- oh my god I had sex with Lena Luthor!” You harshly whispered the last part.

“Well don’t tell the whole world now,” Lena smirked before she took the drink for your hands and walked towards the living room.

“(Y/n/n), are you gonna tell us about this pretty stranger?” Alex asked.

You glared at Alex while Lena smirked. You knew the Luthor had something planned, she always did.

“Pretty Stranger?” Lena raised her eyebrows.

“I met her at the bar. We talked for a whole day. She asked for my number. I asked her out. She arranged the date. She kissed me and I escalated things. Never got her name, we agreed to keep it a mystery so other people’s opinions wouldn’t affect how we think of each other.”

J’onn had a smug grin on his face as if he knew who it was. Honestly who are you fooling J’onn can read minds of course he knows.

“So you got her number, but you didn’t get her name? Can’t you just call her at the worst time possible and wait for her voicemail?” Alex sipped on her wine.

“Yes, Alex!” You said passively. “Why do you think I raced towards my phone earlier?”

“Because you didn’t want us to see it?” Alex shrugged.

You leaned back against the couch from the floor, near Lena’s legs.

“I’m in a screw it mood,” Alex stood up and walked towards the counter with all the phones.

“Alex, don’t do it.” Kelly sighed.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widened.

Alex didn’t answer as she grabbed your phone and pressed on the home button. She frowned when your phone didn’t unlock.

“Did you delete my fingerprint?” Alex looked back at you.

“For this reason exactly. And before you ask Kara for hers, I deleted it too.”

“Hey! What did I do?” The Danvers crinkle obvious between her eyes.

“You always go through my phone, for my safety. I can take care of myself.”

Kara and Alex looked at you at the same time. Everyone knew the looks they were giving and parted like the Red Sea. You immediately stood up and braced for anything they might pull. Lena amused with the whole situation.

You were no match for the Director of the D.E.O or Supergirl. Kara sat on your back. Alex tried to pry open your hands, until she had Kara open it. Once your phone was unlocked they got up.

“You guys are annoying big sisters,” you huffed.

“It’s part of the job description,” Alex scrolled through your contacts.

“Plus you love us.” Kara smiled.

You glared at Lena while she shrugged, not really affected by the fact that her friends would catch her out. Alex called the number and waited a few seconds, the room had already quieted down in anticipation. But it amplified with a ringing at the other end of the room.

“Oh that might be a business partner.” Lena went to grab her phone. She answered the call and ended it immediately, then placed it against her ear as if she was talking to someone.

Alex wasn’t going to give up just yet, she called once again. Lena’s phone rang again which gave Superfriends a questioning look.

“I thought you were already on a call Lena?” Brainy asked.

Alex seemed to have connected the dots immediately as she stared at you and pulled out her own phone. She copied the pretty stranger’s number into her phone only for Lena’s contact to pop up.

“Wait when did you have time to go to the bar?” Alex asked Lena.

“What are you talking about,Alex?” Kara asked.

Nia made a happy face behind Alex’s back. Kelly gasped in happiness for Lena. J’onn didn’t say anything while Brainy and Kara were still trying to figure out what happened.

“Well now that the secret is out, I’ll just like to point out that you’re underestimating your sister’s strength to pin someone down or get out of one.” Lena teased.

You turned red, jumped up to grab your phone from Alex and walked towards Lena. “Hey can I talk to you, pretty stranger.” You called her out through gritted teeth.

You pulled Lena past the living room onto the fire escape and closed the door behind you.

“I did not see that coming,” Kara laughed before the rest of the Superfriends joined her.

“Let’s continue the game!” Nia grabbed her cards that she switched for all wild cards while no one was looking.

“Yeah hold up,” Alex walked towards the fire escape and opened the door. “Hey pretty stranger! Get your lips off my sister!”

[julieandthefandoms]

Best Day Of Our Lives

A Jemma wedding fic featuring a Kitty reunion, married with children Kierartina, and Haline being cute together. It can also be found here on AO3 :) 

Also, a thank you to Kaitlin, @ineedadrinkorsleep, for allowing me to use her list of Kierartina baby names, you’re amazing!

Tagging @katie33333 @tessagraycarstairs @zafirafox4636 @fairchild-squad @lily-chen-deserves-better @ineedadrinkorsleep @older-brother-kit because I have a tag list now!

Julian straightened the collar of the suit. It was bright in shade, a thing of fire and gold. It was the kind of fire so bright it almost seemed to hold no color at all, leaving the shimmering runes custom to shadowhunter weddings to almost compete with the brightness of it. It was blinding, and Julian could admire the craftsmanship of the suit, tailored to near perfection. Julian could care less about the flashiness of the suit though. It wouldn’t matter whether he were wearing jeans, or even were covered in paint splatters. What mattered was that he was getting married to his best friend, Emma Carstairs.

For the longest time, he was sure he wouldn’t have this opportunity. He had thought he had sealed his fate on that day in Idris. The day after the Dark War, when he had asked the person he loved to be his parabatai. He was prepared to live a life of unrequited love, but by some stroke of luck, he was getting married to her. The bond had been broken, and they could be together. He could be happy.

A pang went through him as he thought back to those days, back when Livvy was still with them. She would've been wild with excitement to be there, to have planned it to perfection. Julian was almost surprised that the pain hadn’t dwindled over time, but there was still an ache as he thought of her. The feeling of loss never truly fades. He had enough space in his heart to love Emma, while still hurting from the loss of his sister.

Julian tugged at the bottom of the jacket once more.

“You look lovely, Jules.” He turned to spot his sister, Helen Penhallow Blackthorn, his suggenes, leaning against the doorframe, a bright smile on her face. She herself was dressed in a flowing gown barely brushing against the top of the floor. “We should probably get going though, you wouldn’t want to be late to your own wedding.”

~^*^~

Kit Herondale should have known better. It was bound to happen really, he was definitely pushing his luck after about the second or third wedding he’d been to, but he hadn’t expected it to be so sudden. It had all started earlier that year, when virtually every friend of Jem and Tessa’s had collectively decided to destroy Kit’s life, a simple one of sneaking Mina extra cookies and avoiding his problems, by forcing him to face all his problems at their weddings. And currently, he was faced with the person he was avoiding most.

Kit had somehow managed to skate by during most of the weddings though. Simon and Isabelle’s was first, Kit having managed to stay as close to the crowd as possible, and silently slipping away after the main portion of the ceremony to reduce his chances of getting involved in a rather awkward discussion. Only a few months had passed before Clary and Jace got married as well, Kit glimpsing a head of dark hair before bolting as soon as he could, claiming that he had to take care of Mina. In fact, what was doing was hiding in the library, pouring his heart out to his little sister.

“You’d think after 3 years my heart would stop beating so rapidly that I became concerned about my own health, but no,” Kit glanced at Mina, who was currently laughing at him, eyes half shut from joy.

She let out another giggle.

“How dare you find joy in my pain?” he said, dramatically laying a hand on his head and leaning back against the bookshelf, though the smile illuminating his face revealed his true intentions. “How can I go on now, betrayed by my own sister?”

Kit smiled at the thought.

Kieran, Mark, and Cristina’s wedding had been somewhat more challenging, him having been caught behind a huge oak tree by none other than Livvy Blackthorn, but he had somehow managed to convince her to tell no one, i.e. her twin brother, a.k.a. the person Kit was trying so desperately to avoid.

“Please, Livvy, don’t tell him I’m here,” Kit was pleading now, already on his knees, gazing up at the ghost above him.

Livvy rolled her eyes. “Fine, but only because I want you to do this on your terms. Remember though, my ship must be canon!”

“Your what?!-”

And that finally brought them up to this wedding, Emma and Julian’s to be more specific. Having been related to, however distant that relation may be, the bride had seemingly got the Herondale/Gray/Carstairs family (or as Kit liked to call it, the Herongraystairs family) a one way ticket to the wedding, and consequently, Kit facing the person he was dreading to meet again.

It had been going relatively well, he’d thought, the ceremony about to begin, and Kit quietly tucked into a corner. That was until Mina dragged him towards the table piled high with drinks, having spotted Max Lightwood-Bane, Rafael Lightwood-Bane, Tavvy Blackthorn, Gianna Blackthorn-Rosales, and Nico Blackthorn-Rosales (Cristina, Mark, and Kieran had Gianna and Nico a year before being married, and Mina instantly fell for them, claiming that they were her “best fwends”) playing near there, and Kit had thought maybe a drink or two wouldn’t hurt. He was severely wrong of course as Kit had failed to notice one head of dark hair standing not far from that very table.

Kit blamed Mina’s doe eyes, and his ability to fall for them instantly.

After his first drink, a voice had made Kit turn, causing him to end up where he was currently, nearly on the floor.

“Hello. I’d like to talk to you.”

~*^*~

Julian was bubbling with joy, a smile brightening his face as he was led to a platform, Helen by his side. He stopped at the top of the steps, turning to give Helen an appreciative nod and a smile. Julian took a sharp inhale as Emma walked around the corner, Cristina lending her off to the stage. All thoughts left him. She was breathtaking, wrapped in a gold silk gown that hugged her waist before flaring down to the ground. A sheer overlay on the silk skirt caught the brightness of the witchlight, complimenting the gold in her hair.

But it wasn’t only gold, was it? It was a beautiful mix of cadmium yellows, naples yellows, golds, yellow ochres.

She was beautiful, and Julian couldn’t help but think that he was the luckiest person in the world. As Emma reached the platform, she leaned in, a grin plastered on her face.

“I know, I look stunning.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder in a playful manner.

Julian shot back a nod. “It is your wedding, I’d expect no less.”

And with that, the ceremony began, Brother Enoch reciting a few words, before steles appeared in their hand. It passed by in a blur, and before Julian knew it, they were kissing. Time seemed to still, Julian thought he heard a crash somewhere in the crowd, a flash of blond hair blurring by the table, but he paid no attention to it. The room melted away, it was as though they, Emma and Julian, were the only two people in the room. It was perfect.

~*^*~

“HOLY-” Kit choked on his drink. He had forgotten how graceful shadowhunters were, how easily they could move without alerting anyone surrounding them. Unfortunately, that shadowhunter grace had apparently skipped a generation because Kit found himself clutching at the table for support, having nearly fallen from shock.

“Are you alright?” It was none other than Tiberius Nero Blackthorn, his arm outstretched. He was looking at him, and at that moment, all rational thought left him. He said something roughly equivalent to an audible keysmash before clearing his throat.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Kit brushed himself off, standing up as though nothing had happened. If you pretend to be confident, it won’t be long until you begin to feel confident as well. For the first time since the wedding fiasco began, he actually looked at Ty. He was taller now, Kit was surprised to see, though he supposed he shouldn’t have. Three years did a lot to change someone, he supposed, but those eyes were the same. A beautiful yet deadly storm churning above a sea. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Kit leaned against the table once more, this time a bit more suave and cool, and less panicky than the first.

“Why are you avoiding me?” It was a simple question, clear as day. Kit choked up a bit. “And why did you leave?”

All of a sudden, he was fifteen again, doing anything he could for Ty, the beautiful shadowhunter that had held a knife to his throat. The nephilim he would have done anything for. Years of suppressing his emotions didn’t prepare Kit for this moment, he doubted anything could have. Ty looked calm enough, but his hands were frantically twisting and unknotting a ball of pipe cleaners. He was nervous, Kit knew it, and so Kit blurted it out. He never could have told Ty a lie, even if he wanted to. Even after three years.

“Because I was hurt, and I was running away from what had happened,” Kit took a deep breath, as Ty nodded, understanding it. Kit, suspecting he was going to turn away, proceeded to continue talking, hoping to get a laugh, a smile, anything out of Ty. “Tessa thinks it was the Herondale dramatics though.”

Kit didn’t add the second part of what she said, “Running away from the person you love ‘for their own good’ is alarmingly common among Herondales,” but Ty let out a laugh, bright and brilliant, so it was a win in Kit’s book.

It was an amazing laugh, low and lovely, beautiful to hear.

“Tessa knows Herondales well.”

“She does.”

The silence stretched on for a moment, though it was a comfortable one. A silence in which both parties simply enjoyed the presence of the other.

The soft piano finally registered in Kit’s mind. A crazy idea formed in his head, one his fifteen year old self would banish to the darkest corners of his brain.

“May I have this dance?”

Turned out he wasn’t the only one to have that idea, Kit thought as he accepted Ty’s hand. An impish grin spread across Kit’s face.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

~*^*~

Soft music began playing from the piano in the corner, Jace Herondale shooting a wink at Helen as she rolled her eyes at his antics. A smile rested upon her face, as Helen looked at her brother and Emma, both beaming joy, foreheads together as they swayed to the music. It was so genuine, and beautiful, she couldn’t stop grinning even if she wanted to. She’d already missed so much of her family’s life, exiled on Wrangel Island, that she was glad to be here, sharing this moment with them.

And how lovely it was, gold decorations pinned to the walls, tables lined with dishes and drinks. Kieran, Mark, and Cristina were on the sides, cooing at their third child, Emelia, an adorable baby girl born only a few months ago. Helen spotted Ty dancing with Kit by the drink table, both blissfully unaware of the children bouncing about close to them. Dru was at the center of the ballroom with Jaime Rosales, gown flaring as she was spun.

Aline leaned into her, resting her head upon Helen’s shoulder. She was stunning, in a wine red gown with glittering gold accents, dark hair brushing against her back. Helen couldn’t stop but think about how lucky she was, to have someone so beautiful, so wonderful.

“Young love, it’s beautiful isn’t it?”

Her wife was most certainly correct, and Helen agreed wholeheartedly.

“It really is.”

[imissthefire]

Unwavering

Kierarktina drabble, just a sweet wholesome time at the cabin with our favourite trio! 1830 words, comfort fic.

Read here or on AO3 

        Kieran had arrived at the cottage in the early evening, finally catching a break in his royal duties. His loves—Mark and Cristina—had been staying there for the next few days, catching him when he was able to spare time outside of the palace.

        Tonight, was their first night together in nearly three weeks. When he made it to the cottage, he was greeted with the sweet scent of cinnamon and baked apple. Cristina’s new favourite hobby had been baking, and she was damned good at it. Even mundane foods had Kieran craving more, flavours he had never tried before catching him off guard, but still enticing him further.

        “Hey!” Mark called out, coming out of the side room that acted as an office. “Tina, Kier’s here!” he called back to the kitchen.

        Kieran smiled as Mark walked towards him, embracing his boyfriend tightly, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “I’ve missed you, my love.” Kieran’s hair lightened a few shades, turning to a light teal-y blue.

        Cristina walked across into the room, a light smile gracing her features. She joined the men in their embrace, finding herself leaning to the side to sneak a kiss on Kieran’s cheek, “welcome home, amor” she said, her smile widening.

“My Lady of Roses,” he returned the kiss to her temple, “I’ve missed you as well,” he said, leaning his head on Mark’s shoulder.

        The trio stayed in the entryway for a few minutes, simply enjoying being in the presence of one another. It was Cristina who broke the silence. “I can’t wait for you to try the crumble I’ve made,” she said, tilting her forehead to bump against Kieran’s.

        “Crumble?” Kieran inquired, unfamiliar with the mundane treat. He disentangled himself from their embrace, the triad walking together to the living area of the small house.

        “It’s good, trust us,” Mark supplied, having memories of assisting Eleanor in baking one in his childhood. The memory of his adoptive mother causing him to smile. “We used to make apple crumble all the time, it was Dru’s favourite.”

        “If young Drusilla can claim it to be a favourite, I suppose I can try it without much fear,” Kieran determined, trusting Dru’s judgement.

        “Mark found the recipe. I was dubious at first, but I checked into it and it seemed fine,” Cristina claimed, usually concerned with Mark’s food choices.

It wasn’t that Mark was a bad cook—well, he was, but that wasn’t Cristina’s point—it’s more that he found odd combinations of foods to be genuinely good. She had once compared Mark’s diet to that of a craving pregnant woman—this had caused Mark to become defensive over his bowl of gummy-bears and cantaloupe in milk.

        Kieran nodded, willing to try once it would be ready. The two men finding a place on the couch while Cristina returned to the kitchen to monitor the apple crumble. Kieran laid back, his body lounging out on the couch, head resting in Mark’s lap.

        Mark was idly playing with Kieran’s hair, stroking his fingers through the soft blue locks, enjoying the comfortably habit he picked up in The Hunt. Kieran and being near Kieran had been Mark’s comfort on the harshest nights in The Hunt, the other boy—man, now—being his only source of safety and grounding.

        The pair sat in comfortable silence, the only noise Cristina moving about the kitchen and the sound of the oven door occasionally creaking open floating through the house. She was like the cherry on top for Kieran and Mark. Sometimes the two former hunters would fall back into their old ways, falling into trauma, fear, and arguments. Cristina was a buffer to drag them out, she was a light to brighten the darkness that shrouded them.

        But Mark and Cristina or Kieran and Cristina weren’t a perfect pair either. They always needed their third to bring them together into a peaceful and happy relationship. Mark and Cristina would fall into Shadowhunter mode too intensely, getting caught up in work too much, not saving times to take for themselves, not taking time to work out personal disputes but ignoring each other for periods of time. Kieran brought them out of their petty squabbles, making them realise the way they were reacting was irrational and childish.

        Cristina and Kieran both found each other too shy around each other to get anywhere, Mark always bringing them together, bridging Shadowhunter and Faerie tradition with ease. She was too nervous about being with a king and he with a princess. They both had a tendency to shy away from each other when they were without Mark for more than a few weeks. He tied them together as Cristina did he and Kieran, as Kieran did he and Cristina.

It was nice in their way. The way the three of them got along, but yet two of them could turn to dust if things persisted the wrong way for too long. They were all three built for love and loving each other, they were a perfect trio, each bringing balance to the others in their own way. Cristina and her positivity and radiance, Kieran and his diplomacy and steadfastness, Mark and his bubbliness and knowledge of their cultures.

Like she did, Cristina brought the boys out of themselves as she wandered in, balancing three small bowls with spoons sticking out of them in her hands and on her arm. She wordlessly distributed the apple crumble with a dollop of whipped cream on top to the two men awaiting her.

Kieran sat up, making room for Cristina to sit between him and Mark. The three sat together comfortably on their sofa that had been designed more for two people, but still comfortably seated them three.

Cristina watched apprehensively as Kieran brought a spoonful of the treat to his mouth. He nodded, swallowing, and giving Cristina a thumbs up—a very mundane gesture for the Unseelie King to be displaying. She let out a satisfied noise as she too took a mouthful of the dessert, proud of herself for introducing Kieran to another new mundane food.

“It reminds me of a pie, sweeter and softer,” Kieran remarked between bites.

“It basically is a deconstructed pie, now that I think of it,” Cristina added, shrugging her shoulders. “What do you think, Mark?”

Mark, who had been silent throughout the whole conversation smiled, “it reminds me of home before the pair of you,” he said, “but now it reminds me of home here too.”

The simple words caused his partners to feel a warmth bubble up within them, both feeling proud to be Mark’s home and heart. The three ate in blissful quiet, the only sounds that of spoons scraping against bowls. As they finished, Mark stood, collecting bowls, and stacking them together before briefly disappearing into the kitchen to deposit them in the sink to be washed later.

He returned to see Cristina and Kieran snuggled up together, Kieran’s arms around Cristina’s shoulders. It was an image Mark wouldn’t trade for the world—they were his world, no one could ever replace them. They were his and he was theirs; there was no contesting it.

Everything was serene as he joined his loves on the couch, sitting on Kieran’s other side and leaning his head on his shoulder. The trio could sit in silence without any words between them for hours, but it wasn’t long before Kieran suggested going for a short walk.

Outside the cottage was a dense forested area, and across from it, a small beach. As one, they stood up, making their way back to the front doorway to head on their short adventure. They filed out the door, Cristina retrieving a key attached to a chain around her neck to lock it.

Reaching out for Cristina and Kieran’s hands, Mark recalled his earlier nights in Faerieland; he recalled how he would name the stars after his siblings, how now he added Kieran and Cristina to the stars as they were family now. He recited his list, pointing to each star as he whispered the names of his brothers and sisters, squeezing Cristina’s hand as he named a star after her, and doing the same with Kieran. As a trio, they waltzed out into the night, feeling the crisp and fresh air of the forest encapsulate them.

The world moved slow around them as they walked, Mark occasionally going to stand before the other pair and walking backwards as to face them as he did. He was exceptionally talented at dodging branches and shrubs and anything in his path. He spoke animatedly about his plans for the three of them, how if they couldn’t get married in Faerie law, they could always host and hold their own mock wedding for the three of them in private, exchanging promises and love in their own way.

Kieran was the one to interrupt Mark’s wedding plans, a hesitant smile on his lips. “Wedding or not, you two are everything I need. I would give my crown to be with you but that is not what I am meant to do. I would bend the sky and earth to change the laws of the land, but neither is that my purpose. My purpose is to rule and to love with ferocity.” He paused, observing his partners’ expressions before continuing. “My love for you is as sure as the sun is to rise from the east, as strong as a blade forged in the most tempered flame, and as long as the expanses of the skies.”

Mark and Cristina stood, stunned by Kieran’s words. Cristina felt her eyes sting from early signs of tears, as did Mark.

“If only I could speak so eloquent, Kieran, I would love as strong as you,” Cristina returned, squeezing Kieran’s hand

Mark nodded in agreement. “You have robbed me or all whim and word, dearest,” Mark added.

Kieran blushed, his hair darkening a shade as his cheeks went rosy. “This was not my intention,” he grabbed Mark’s hand with his free one, “but my loves, there is not a day that goes by wherein my love for you does not grow.”

“I love you,” Cristina said, her voice hardly above a whisper, intimate and soft.

“And I you, my sweet Cristina,” her name was soft on his lips as he returned the sentiment.

“I love you,” Mark grabbed Cristina’s free hand, giving both hers and Kieran’s a gentle squeeze, “and you.”

“I love you too,” both Kieran and Cristina returned in unison.

The three stood in the forest, the only witnesses the piskies and hobs as they came together into an embrace. Moments of impromptu love came to the triad as water did to a creek—unintentional, unsure, and unwaveringly. As though the moment had been nothing more than a mere confession of secrets, the trio continued their walk, occasional words exchanged back and forth, as the night took them in her arms.

[songsofloretto]

Kieran gave me this earlier. I like writing for Kieran. He's a nasty bastard trying to turn his life around which makes him multi-faceted but as a character giving direction he's easy to 'feel'. Kieran never does third person perspective. His stories are always first person and written like a commentary.

Kieran, Nicky, Rory and Matthew

Sainsbury's, May 2021

"Uncle Kieran can I have these water pistols?"

It's been 30 years since I last took a child grocery shopping. It was bad enough in the 1980s with the kids wanting the sweets at the end of the checkout and all that. Fast forward to the 21st century and the problem has absolutely mushroomed, along with the size of supermarkets in general. Before I went to prison supermarkets only sold food. These days they sell everything from sun-dried tomatoes to fecking funeral plans. Nothing is sacred from these corporate giants. There are whole sections devoted to toys so there's no avoiding the inevitable pleas from children presented with their every wildest dream every time you call in for a pint of milk. Our Matthew's grandson is no different. The little lad is only four years old and to him this toy section is like every Christmas morning he's ever dreamed of all rolled in to one.

"Eh?" I say.

Rory lifts a box of four water pistols from the shelf and almost topples over under the weight of them. I grab it quick and steady him before he smacks his head off the corner of a shelf.

"Woah," I say to him, "steady on, our kid."

"I want these water pistols," Rory says emphatically, "there's four altogether. You, me, Uncle Nicky and Grandad can all play with them in the garden."

I look at the box. The pistols are nothing special. I've seen more power in a carrot. But the kid is right. It's a boiling hot day and perhaps an hour in the garden shooting each other up is exactly what this fecked up family needs to bond.

And who can say no to little Rory, who hasn't seen his daddy in over a year. Deaglan has been stuck in New York over this bloody pandemic, unable to get home to his son, missing out on all the drama we have going on here. The kid, innocently caught in the middle of it all, deserves a little joy in his life. I take a pistol out of the box and work my finger over the trigger, pretending to shoot, while Rory laughs and crouches down low.

"Aye you can have them," I tell him, and ruffle his hair with my fingers.

Right on cue the ever uptight Nicky slides up to us, almost falling over himself in his desperation to spoil any fun. He's swaggering about in his police uniform with a stick up his arse as usual. No tie or epaulettes but you can still tell he's an off-duty police officer. The cunt.

"I don't think so," he says rather efficiently as he plucks the box and the pistols out of my hands.

"What the f...Nicky!" I say, and pull the box back from him, "what's wrong with you?"

"I don't think it's appropriate for children to play with guns," Nicky says matter-of-factly.

"Aww!" Rory whines, "please, Uncle Nicky!"

His face creases and I can't bear to see him look sad. I know from experience that arguing with Nicky isn't easy. He's a jumped-up, self-important and arrogant little prick. In fact he's just like me when I was his age. It amuses me somewhat. I know that he'll get wound up like a clock if I challenge his decision - and I'm really trying to make friends with him, honest - but I've got to try and change his mind, for the little lad's sake.

"Well they're only water pistols," I say with a little shrug, "not gonna do much damage with them, eh, Nick auld fella?"

Nicky pulls a straight-laced expression and looks down his nose at me like a seasoned bloodhound would look at a yapping pup. He thinks I'm scum, I realise as we face each other off. He'll always look down on me like this, because in his bright, British eyes I'll always represent the dirty side of Ireland. I feel the vein on my temple flicker. I have to take a deep breath to keep my cool.

"It's not about any potential risk of damage," Nicky breaks the tension between us with a belittling little sniff, "it's about the psychology. Teaching children that guns are good fun and can't hurt anyone is a slippery slip. Before we know it he'll be twelve years old and shooting up his gym class."

"Fuck off Nicky, this is England, not America," I try to laugh off his point but he just keeps staring.

"And I don't think you, of all people, Kieran O'Driscoll, are in any position at all to be encouraging my nephew to take an interest in firearms," Nicky looks down his nose at me again.

I've been trying hard to handle his snooty arrogance for weeks. I really have. But something inside me snaps.

"Why?" I ask, squaring up to him, "because I was in the IRA? Is that it?"

I don't know what I'm doing. I'm 79 years old. Nicky is 45. I haven't got a chance against him in a fight, especially not with all his police training, but it's my pride that pushes me on. I have to stand up for myself, be a man about it. Teach this little arsehole a lesson.

"Yes," Nicky nods his head, "because you dealt firearms for terrorist organisation. And I don't want you playing with any sort of gun, imitation or otherwise, in front of my brother's son."

Deaglan is Nicky's own twin brother. They've never met. They were seperated at birth. Deaglan stayed in Ireland with Matthew, Nicky went to England with Kate. And now he fancies himself as the big Englishman, the creme de la creme of Britishness, superior above each and all other nationalities. And he spent his whole life loathing the Irish for putting his mother in a wheelchair. She was was a British soldier, victim of an IRA bomb, Newry police station, 1975. Sad story.

It was a terrible shock to poor Nicholas Jamie Hawley when he discovered that his father was not, as his mother always told him, a dead British soldier who died for his country in a halo of bullets. His father Matthew is in fact a proud Ulsterman who is very much alive and even did time for murder. Nicky's brain must have exploded inside his skull when it tried to digest this information. When he realised that half of him bled for Ireland it nearly knocked him sick.

But he had to get used to the idea because this pandemic threw us all together under the same roof, forcing us to learn to love and live with each other. And so here we are, factions of a long-estranged family trying to find common ground, and about to start fighting over water pistols in Sainsbury's.

"You'll never forgive me for being ex-IRA, will you?" I ask him.

"Never," Nicky lifts his chin, "once a terrorist, always a terrorist in my book."

"I did my time, Nicholas," I tell him, "27 years in a hell-hole of a prison. Oh Lord I suffered. And I'm deeply sorry for my transgressions as a younger man."

"Sorry will never be enough," Nicky whispers, "what your sort did to my mother..."

I close my eyes. I don't like think of it. And all over some water pistols to make the little lad happy!

The Voice of Reason enters stage left. Here is Matthew O'Driscoll, everyone's favourite peace-keeping fence-sitter. He spent an age parking the car and has only just joined us. He's as Irish as I am but everyone loves him, even Nicky, because...well because he's Matthew. Need I say more?

Matthew is astute. He studies the body language between me and his long-lost son and folds his arms, awaiting explanation.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"The wee bairn wanted a few water pistols to play with," I said, "and PC Gobshite over here has got an issue with it."

Matthew looks at Nicky who blushes a little as if he suddenly feels rather foolish.

"I didn't think it was ok," he says. His mouth is suddenly dry and he swallows, "to promote guns to a child. I'm in Loco Parentis for Rory. Deaglan has trusted me to look after him. I don't want to fuck it up and send the kid back to his dad thinking guns are ok. Because they're not. What would Deaglan think of me?"

He gives Matthew a slow look. Matthew nods his head. He is trying to understand Nicky's perspective. The man is nervous about all this family stuff. He's still reeling from the shock of discovering he has a family he never knew, that the family is Irish, that there is a man out there in the world who shares his face. Appearance and reputation is key right now. Nicky has never been a parent and suddenly, thanks to the pandemic, he's stepping in to care for his twin brother's son. He wants to do a good job. Of course he does.

It's interesting that Nicky never gives Matthew any stick about being Irish. Let's not forget that Matthew did prison time too. In 1994 he shot his own best mate in the head to stop the IRA from kidnapping and torturing him. We've never spoken about the fact it was me who ordered Brophy's kidnapping in the first place. If I'd have got my hands on Donnachadh Brophy all those years I'd have cut his balls off, fried them in Crisp N Dry oil, added little salt and pepper to taste and made the cunt eat them. But not now. I've mellowed out now. I'm not like that any more. I wouldn't hurt a hair on Brophy's head if he were alive today. And I don't deal in guns. Except water pistols because...well they're water pistols for feck's sake.

"You mean you've taken offence to Kieran handling a gun because he's Irish, is it that it?" Matthew asks.

"Not because he's Irish, per se," Nicky says, "but because of...it's because he has previous."

Matthew nods. The simple action brings calm to the situation. Nicky is feeling heard. He relaxes a little.

"I know you still suffer the fear of the IRA," Matthew says to him softly, "I know as a kid they haunted your dreams. You grew up thinking you had to protect your Mammy from them. But it's all in the past, Nicky. Wether we like it or not we're all together now and there are things we have to forgive each other for if we're going to survive this virus. And survive as a family. Because that's all any of us ever longed for, isn't it? It's time to let go, son."

Matthew takes the pistol from Nicky's grip. The police officer tightens but then releases his hold, surrendering control to the father he never knew he had, and letting go of the toy gun. It's very poignant, metaphorical moment. Makes the man in me uncomfortable so I try to inject some humour to make it bearable.

"Fecking hell," I scoff, "who do you think you are Matty eh? A walking example of the Good Friday Agreement?"

Matthew doesn't take his eyes from Nicky's face. A silent agreement is passing between them.

"Shut up, Ki," Matthew says without looking at me, "it's all right, Nicky. We're going to take these pistols home, fill them up with water and have a big old laugh together. Three generations shooting cold water at each other. And it will be safe, it will be ok. Because it's what families do together all the time."

"Ok," Nicky starts scratching at his arms in that way he has when needs to self-soothe with a wash, "we'll have a water fight. Together. But I'll need to get a shower first."

"If it makes you feel better," Matthew nodded.

He understands Nicky's need to be clean better than I do. I've never known a man so obsessed with washing his skin, changing his clothes, marinating in aftershave because unfamiliar smells upset him. As soon as you walk into the house we all share his first question is 'have you washed your hands?' He won't let you touch anything until you wash your own hands at the kitchen sink. Which by the way is a Belfast model. That little detail is lost on Nicky. It brings me a private sort of amusement.

Nicky's scratching intensifies. We'll have to hurry up with the shopping now because he has it in his head that he needs a wash and a preen. If he doesn't get to a shower soon he'll start getting all upset with himself. There's no time to argue now.

Matthew hands the pistol to the four-year-old whose innocence is responsible for bringing us all together. And then we all walk on, four abreast, to find the pint of milk we all came in looking for in the first place.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

could you maybe write something about Arthur falling in love with a rival gang member? like a bit like romeo and juliet or something, you can choose the ending, thx :)

I tried to keep this one short but then I puked out like thirteen pages, so have fun, Anon! Thanks for sending this in! 

You’ve been running with the O’Driscolls for many years. Most of your life, really. Ever since you were a young teen. You’d been living with your parents and older sister in a cabin on the border of Ambarino and New Hanover. When you were thirteen, you had a habit of dressing like a boy even though you’re a girl. You just preferred the more comfortable, free moving clothing that boys wore and you kept your hair short to spite your mother. She’d been trying to push the woman’s lifestyle on you and you were just not having it. In order to rebel against her, you cut your hair so it was only a few inches long. 

Your father didn’t care how you looked or dressed, he thought you should do what felt right. He taught you how to hunt and shoot a gun when you were young, and he did this with your older sister as well. She didn’t take to it as well as you did as she didn’t like getting her hands dirty. She was too much like your mother and you were like your father. He was the one who bought you pants and button-down shirts to wear and a hat to shelter your eyes and head. 

It was the combination of your clothes, hair and that you always seemed to be covered in earth or dust from the road that saved your life. At the age of fourteen, the O’Driscolls came to your cabin one night. It was only a small group of them, but Colm O’Driscoll heard a rumor that your father was wealthy and just pretended to be poor for the sake of appearances. 

This was true as your grandfather had been a railway magnate until he’d been forced out of his business and decided on a simpler, less stressful life. He’d left his fortune to your father, who decided to hide his inheritance. Your family lived on a small ranch, which made it easy to pretend like you had just enough to get by. But somehow word had slipped out about your family’s money and Colm came to steal it. 

Colm and seven of his men barged their way into your cabin. They shot your father only seconds after breaking the door down, then your mother. Colm’s men grabbed your sister and dragged her off into the night. You never saw her again, though you still sometimes hear her screams when trying to sleep. Colm looked hard at you and thought, because of your appearance, that you were a boy. 

“You’re gonna be one of us, boy,” he said in his oddly soft voice. “You’re gonna be one of us or end up like your daddy.” 

You just nodded and went with them. You were forced to join the gang but you knew the consequences for trying to run. Of course, you also continued to dress like a boy. As you grew, you started growing your hair out to respect your mother in her death. Luckily plenty of Colm’s men had longer hair, so they suspected nothing. That changed when you started to grow older and parts of your body visibly changed. You had to wear a tight wrap around your chest, but there was nothing you could do about your wider hips. You managed to threaten a tailor to make a duster with padded shoulders to make them look bigger and hide your feminine figure. 

Years passed from when Colm destroyed your family and you stayed in his gang. You would have left when you were close to twenty, but you knew what would happen if you deserted. One boy made this mistake and Colm hunted him down and within days of him leaving, Colm killed him. The matter of his death was neither easy or quick, so you knew if you left, the same thing would happen to you. 

Of course it wasn’t easy being in Colm’s gang. Since you were smaller than most the others, you got picked on a lot and you got stuck with some of the more unpleasant tasks, like shoveling horse shit and cleaning up after the others. 

Shortly after you were incorporated into the gang, you’d heard of Dutch Van der Linde and his boys. You only knew his name and that he and Colm were rivals. Every once in a while, you’d hear about them interfering with one another’s work, but whenever you asked why Colm had such a fury towards Dutch, the others would just tell you to shut up. You thought for a long time that Colm detested this Dutch just because he was another gang leader and they happened to cross one another frequently. 

You’ve been in the gang more than ten years now. Ten long, miserable years. You want nothing more than to get out, but to do so means your inevitable death. You also know it can take mere seconds for Colm to figure out you’re a woman. He doesn’t like women in the gang, says they only slow the gang down. If and when he finds out, he’ll happily put a bullet in your head. 

Colm has never liked you much. You think the only reason he brought you into the gang was because you were a child. Maybe Colm has something against killing kids or maybe he just thought you might have potential. You don’t take his malcontent personally. He doesn’t like most the men he runs with, only keeps them around because they’re good with guns and sometimes manage to pull a score successfully. 

You’ve climbed up in his ranks though. You had no choice. In order to survive and to hide your gender, you learned quickly. Even though you knew how to shoot a pistol and a varmint rifle, you had to learn how to shoot a bigger gun. So you taught yourself. Colm’s boys taught you the craft of acting mean, targeting people and robbing them. You were good too. Perhaps it was just your feminine intuition on how to play people since you couldn’t physically fight too well because of your size, but you had a knack for tricking people and robbing them blind. Colm appreciated this and you moved up quickly. 

You hate him though. No matter what he does or how much money you get through him, you hate him. You’d like nothing more than to slit his throat while he sleeps. But you’re afraid of him too. The first time you’d ever seen him was putting a bullet in your father and then killing your mother. You know he had something to do with your sister and there’s little doubt in your mind he ravaged her and then killed her too. Only a monster could be capable of that, to orphan a child and then force them to work for the one who killed their family. 

You walk into the bar in Valentine, thirsty and sore. The past few days have been hell. For some dumb reason, Colm decided a couple weeks back to move the gang up to some fallen apart town near Colter. Then you all got trapped there during a blizzard. He’d been out with some of his boys when the blizzard hit. He came back with his right hand man, a fat man with a bushy beard named Hoskins. The others never returned, but Colm figured the idiots had gotten lost and died in the snow. 

He told you and some of the other higher ups that you were all up here to rob a train owned by Leviticus Cornwall. You’d heard the name of course. He was a big, but impossible target. Cornwall was known to go after any idiot who robbed him with a vengeance. Colm told you all to stay up here for another couple of days before the robbery. Then he sent one of the newer members, some fidgety nervous guy named Kieran, out to scout for the train. He left and told you and some of the others to go hunt some game to keep everyone fed. 

You split off from the others and managed to find a deer grazing out in the frozen wilderness, but when you came back to the hideout, it was littered with corpses. Only a few men were left standing. When Colm returned and found out the plans for the train robbery had been stolen, he lost it. He hit one of the other men right in the face. Only you seemed to notice that the kid, Kieran, hadn’t returned, but you said nothing. 

Colm set his hands on the back of a rickety chair and glared into a lamp. 

“There’s only one fella stupid enough and bold enough to steal a score from me. Goddamn Van der Linde. Well, I have a surprise for him. This is the last time he steals from me. I heard he and his bunch are wanted in Blackwater. Hoskins, you’ll help me find a way to get him.” 

You rarely saw Colm after that, but he moved the gang to Hanging Dog Ranch in Big Valley. He ordered you and the others to hunt for new scores and for the whereabouts of Dutch and his boys. 

You’ve been riding for days with hardly any sign of either gang. That’s why you’re in this shit hole of a town Valentine. Always muddy, always smelling of shit. You rap on the bar and order a beer. You’re in need of a bath, but you need to go back to camp tomorrow. You’ve been gone long enough and they might start to think you’ve deserted. Despite your hatred towards Colm, you do feel a strange sense of obligation towards him. Despite him having destroyed your family and livelihood, he taught you how to fight, how to rob and how to get away with it. Perhaps that’s just a lie you tell yourself. Maybe the only reason you’re loyal to him is because you’ve been part of his gang most your life. 

Just as you’re finishing your beer, the doors swing open and a man walks in. You only glance at him for a second and spot his leather hat and blue shirt. He stalks towards the barber’s seat and gets his hair and beard trimmed. After he’s done, he comes and leans on the bar not too far from you. He orders a beer as well. 

Something about him intrigues you. It’s rare for you to take an interest in men, and in this town he’s not out of style. Hell, he’s covered in dirt and his clothes are years old, from the looks of them. Still, he has this force and presence that drags your attention to him. You study him for a moment. 

He glances over at you and your eyes meet. He’s got stunning blue eyes. You blink and look away. You both ignore each other and buy a few more drinks. After your third, you decide that’s enough and start to head out. Just as you leave the bar, you collide with the man. 

“Sorry,” you say, forgetting in that split second to make your voice sound deep and gravelly. You’re usually so careful, but when you’re not around the gang, it’s harder to maintain. 

The man lowers his brow, clearly confused. “It’s alright, mi… well, can I call ya miss?” 

He looks you up and down, clearly confused. After all, your disguise is very convincing. 

“Sure,” you say. “Long as you don’t tell no one else.” 

He huffs a small laugh. “And who’d I tell that I met a young woman who looked just like a young, very small man?” 

You smile. “I guess no one.” 

He tips his hat. “You have a fine day, sir.” He gets on his horse and rides off. 

************************

You’ve bumped into this man a few more times since that first meeting. You found a mutilated corpse under the railroad and he did too at pretty much the same time. Another day, you stumbled upon a strange rock carving near the Cumberland River and he showed up only seconds later. Another time, you were just heading back to Hanging Dog Ranch and you saw him in the big meadow skinning a pronghorn. You’ve never crossed paths with a stranger so often. 

You’re in Valentine again and just heading over to the train station. A couple months back, you bumped into some annoying feller who offered you money for bundles of cigarette cards, and you’ve finally found enough that they might be worth something. Hopefully this idiot wasn’t pulling your leg. Just as you’re about to reach the doors, they open and the man you’ve met a handful of times comes out. 

“Excuse me, sir,” he says, then stops. His eyes rake over you and he smiles. “Again? How many times you and I gonna cross paths?” 

You smile. “Don’t get the impression that I’m following you, that’s not what’s happening.” 

He smiles back. “Course not. Well, don’t let me keep ya.” 

You’ve never been a big believer in fate or destiny, but the fact that you’ve run into this man so often has got to be more than mere coincidence. As he starts walking over to his horse, you turn. 

“Sir, we keep bumping into each other. Now I don’t believe in divine interference when it comes to people and their lives, but… there’s gotta be a reason we keep running into each other. Let me buy you a beer.” 

He grins. “That’s awful kind o’ ya, miss. Guess I can grab a drink. Though not Smithfield’s. Bar owner ain’t too keen on me right now.” 

You agree and go to the smaller, quieter saloon in Valentine. You make good on your promise and buy him a drink. There, you both get to talking and introduce yourselves properly (though not entirely honestly). 

“So tell me,” Arthur says, setting his bottle down. “Why’s a girl like you dressin’ like a man? Judgin’ by how well you do it, my guess is you’ve done it a long time.” 

You sigh. “It’s…. It’s a long, boring story. Let’s just say it’s safer for me to dress like this than a woman. No offence, but men have a disgusting habit of targeting women because we’re the weaker sex.” 

He smiles a bit. “Yes we certainly have a habit of doin’ that. However, I know you’re leavin’ somethin’ out.” 

“How would you know?” 

“Because,” he says, “you’re way too vague and you’re the only woman I seen dressed like this. So what’s the real story?” 

You know you can’t tell him about Colm’s gang, but perhaps you can just tell him a vague bit of the truth. 

“I run with a bunch of boys who aren’t too keen on runnin’ with women. Guess they don’t really like us, I don’t know. In order to keep on runnin’ with ‘em, I dress like this. They buy it well enough.”

“Don’t seem like a particularly good bunch if they can’t handle you bein’ a lady. Why don’t you just leave?” 

“It’s… it’s complicated,” you say, hiding your eyes beneath your hat. “Let’s just say they ain’t keen on people abandoning them.” 

He doesn’t press further and then he thanks you for the drink. You kind of hope you don’t see him again, he already knows too much about you for your own safety. 

Just as you’re leaving Valentine, Colm and Hoskins bump into you. 

“There you are, you son of a bitch,” Colm snarls when he sees you. This is a usual greeting so you think nothing of it. “Saddle up, boy. We gotta go to Six Point.” 

“Why?” you say, mounting up on your horse. 

“I left Lowman and McCann up there with some of the others. They were supposed to stash the money from that stage robbery and meet us at Hangin’ Dog. I ain’t seen hide nor hair of ‘em. Little bastards better not be dead drunk.” 

You ride with the two to the cabin Colm sometimes uses as a hideout. You find the other men scattered around, dead but not drunk. Colm’s furious again and he kicks a bucket halfway across the site. He investigates the cabin and finds the money gone, as well as a double-barrelled shotgun he had mounted up on the chimney. 

“You, boy,” he points at you. “You stay here. Get this shit cleaned up, and stay here until I come for you in case the shits who did this come back.” 

“You want me here alone in case a possible group of expert gunman come back?” you say, not liking the odds. 

“Yeah, don’t be yella. Just do what you’re told. I’ll come get ya in a few days.” 

***********************

What Colm said would be a few days has turned into a few weeks. He’s had you stake out places like this before, so you know the drill: sniff out any possible leads from the closest town. While you’ve been trying to dig up clues, you bump into that Arthur Morgan time and time again. 

The first time you did since buying him a drink, he offered to buy you one. After that, whenever you meet, you both go for drinks and get to know one another a little better. It isn’t long before you start to feel a sense of friendship towards him. He’s just as vague on his lifestyle as you are, but you don’t push out of respect. Before long, Arthur asks you to meet him in places to go hunting. He seems to like the company. 

After one particularly long day, you part his company in Valentine and return to Six Point. You spend the next couple of days missing him. You miss him more than anyone else you’ve ever known and that’s when you’re hit with it: you like him. 

The next time you meet, you try to keep things cool between you and him, but you can’t help but stare at him. He is handsome after all. Plus you know that while his temper can be quick to flare up, he can be incredibly gentle and caring. There was one time you both stumbled into a cabin where the occupants had died due to a fire. The cabin was relatively intact and it looked like they’d died from the gas. Arthur picked up a pen and a children’s book. When you questioned him on this, he just smiled. 

“I have a couple of friends who mentioned they wanted a pen and a book like this.” 

“Ah, so if I was to ask you to fetch me somethin’, would you get it?” you ask before you could stop yourself.

“Of course. Anythin’ in mind?” 

You were almost surprised, but happy. “Now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind a watch. I accidentally dropped mine and it broke a couple days back. Haven’t had the chance to replace it.” 

He smiled and promised to bring you one. The next time you saw him, he had it. When your fingers brushed his, he blushed. Was it possible he had something for you too?

From then on, your relationship with Arthur changed. There was just a sense of electricity between you both, like you were magnetized. You went from purposefully bumping your hand into his to touching his upper arms and shoulders to brushing his hair when he had his hat off. It wasn’t long after that when you had your first kiss. It had taken you completely by surprise.

You’d both been drinking heavily that night and you were doing everything to control yourself with him. You’d been more attracted to him than ever, but you weren’t sure if he liked you too. However, in your drunken phase, the candlelight hit him just right and you just leaned over and kissed him. He was taken by surprise, but when you started to pull away, he stopped you and crashed his lips to yours. 

After that night, the two of you met almost daily, even if it was just for five minutes. Arthur kissed you as often as he could. It didn’t take long before the two of you finally made love. You’d been out hunting and it rained hard, chilling you both to the bone. You were both forced to strip down to your undergarments as your clothes had been soaked. You nestled close to one another and one thing led to another and you ended up sleeping with him. Arthur was more than satisfactory in bed, he knew how to push buttons you weren’t even aware existed. He seemed pleased with your performance as well. 

After having sex with him, you start to feel guilty for hiding so much from him. You’ve made love to him several times now and you feel incredibly close to him. More than anyone else you’ve known. He makes you feel like you don’t have to hide, you can be yourself. Perhaps now is the time you open up about your past. 

You meet Arthur in the saloon, where you always arrange to meet. You’ve made up your mind when you walk up to him. He smiles when he sees you and wraps an arm around you. He kisses you softly, not caring who might be around to see. 

“Well, should we go off huntin’ or do you wanna hit the hotel first and have a little fun?” he asks with a small growl. 

You blush a bit. “I’d love to go have some fun, but… we need to talk first.” 

His smile fades, but he nods. You feel even more guilty, the poor man probably thinks you’re going to break up with him. You take his hand and lead him outside to your horses and mount up. You lead him away from the town where you won’t be overheard. 

You dismount and Arthur follows suit. He walks over but doesn’t touch you, clearly under the impression you’re going to end things. 

“Arthur I… I feel I owe you an explanation,” you say, looking at your feet. “I haven’t been honest with you. Most of the things I’ve said have been little less than lies.” 

He furrows his brow, clearly taken aback by this. You look up at him. 

“I don’t want to lie anymore, Arthur. I’m….” you prepare yourself for the worst. Most men you can think of would be upset at dating an outlaw. “I’m an outlaw. The boys I run with are a gang.” 

He sighs and smiles. “Jesus, darlin’! You nearly scared me to death!” 

You look at him in shock. “What?”

“Honey, I don’t care that you’re an outlaw. You wanna hear one of my secrets?” He grabs your hands and leans in. “I’m an outlaw too. I run with a gang. Men, women, even a kid. Not my kid, course, but he’s a good boy.” 

You smile up at him, your gut feeling considerably lighter. “Oh thank God. Can I ask which gang?” 

He scratches the back of his neck. “I run with Dutch Van der Linde.” 

Your heart skips a beat. “Van der Linde?” you say.

He nods. “Somethin’ wrong?” 

You swallow. “Possibly. Arthur, I… I run with the O’Driscolls.” 

He lowers his brow and his eyes widen. His hands let go of yours. “The O’Driscolls? You run with those assholes?” 

“Arthur, I can explain. It wasn’t really my decision and-” 

“Save it,” he growls. “Your gang has caused nothin’ but heartbreak and anger for my gang. Van der Linde is like a father to me and Colm killed his girl.” 

“And Van der Linde killed his brother!” you say. You’re not really sure why you’re getting defensive, but you know one thing: Arthur has a huge problem with your truth. 

“Word is Colm hated his brother more than anyone else,” Arthur snarls. “But he killed Dutch’s girl. They were gonna get married! And you run with those fools? I can’t even tell ya how much trouble you’re bunch has caused us?” 

You blink away some tears. “I thought… Arthur, I thought you wouldn’t care. Just because I run with them doesn’t mean I’m like them. I hate Colm more than you can know, but I can’t get out.” 

“No one’s forced to do nothin’. You can leave whenever you want. But I’m gonna tell ya somethin’, Y/N.” His eyes darken and he squares his jaw. “If you choose to stay with them, you and I can’t be together no more. I refuse to be associated with a goddamn O’Driscoll.” 

You lower your head and look down. You want nothing more than to leave, but if you do, Colm will butcher you. “I want nothing more than to run away from him, Arthur. But… he’ll kill me.” 

He sighs heavily. “So you’re gonna choose to be a coward. Well, forget about things with me then, Y/N. I refuse to waste my time on an O’Driscoll.” 

His words sting and he marches over to his horse, mounting up and leaves. Out of all the things that could have happened when you decided to come clean, this was not it. Your chest suddenly tightens painfully and your stomach just feels like it’s gone. You take a step over to the cliff’s edge and sit down. You’ve never despised your gang more. They’ve taken everything from you. Your family, your freedom, and now your lover. You can’t say you blame Arthur for leaving and you can understand his loyalty to his gang. He’s also right about you and you feel like a coward. 

After a bit, you get yourself up and ride off to Six Point. When you get there, you finally let yourself cry. How can you go on with your gang now? You’d been so happy with Arthur, happier than you’ve been in years, and now it’s gone. Life with your gang seems even darker than before. 

*************************

The next day, Colm comes, but he doesn’t want you to return to the gang’s hideout yet. 

“Turns out Van der Linde was behind the massacre here,” he says. “Only one way he could’ve known about this place. That coward Kieran must’ve been behind this. I also heard a rumor.” He glares at you. “One of my boys said he saw you talkin’ with a fella named Arthur Morgan. You know he’s one of Dutch’s boys, right?” 

You swallow. “Yes. I was merely telling him this is our turf and he should get lost.” 

“I see, though I doubt it. From what my boy was tellin’, you looked like you were friendly with him. More than friendly even. I can handle one of my men feelin’ attracted to other men, as long as they don’t act on it. But I will not accept anyone falling for a Van der Linde, you got me, boy?” 

You nod your head. “Yes, sir. I am not attracted to Morgan, but I understand.” 

“You always was a bad liar. Now I need to go somewhere for a few more days, but when I come back, you’re comin’ with me. Now if I hear you’re fraternizing with any more of Dutch’s boys, you ain’t gonna like what I do to ya.” 

With that, Colm stomps out of the cabin and rides off. You’re left shaken. “Goddamn it, Arthur,” you say quietly. “Why must you be… you?”

****************************

Two days later, you’re still at Six Point. You haven’t left the cabin since Colm threatened you. You’re sure he’s staked out some of his men in Valentine to keep an eye on you. As far as Arthur goes, you’ve heard and seen nothing. You miss him more than you care to admit, but you’ve already given up on ever seeing him again. He made it perfectly clear how he feels about you. 

You’re beginning to wonder if running and taking your chances would be worth staying with Colm. After all, it’s not like you get much money from his jobs and you’re no more safer staying than you are running. He’s turned around and shot his men several times over stupid things. You weren’t one of them out of mere chance. More than that though, you’re tired of hiding. Hiding who you are and what you look like. 

Just as you’re beginning to think of a plan of escape, where you’ll go and what you’ll do, a knock comes on the door of Six Point. It’s not Colm. He never knocks. Perhaps it’s just a weary traveller in need of shelter from the torrential rain outside. You readjust your high bun and put your hat back on, pulling the masculine disguise back together. 

When you open the door, you don’t find a traveller. Arthur’s standing on the porch, his hat in his hands. 

“What are you doing here?” you say quietly, trying to cover your emotions. Your voice is surprisingly steady. You fold your arms around yourself, waiting for his anger. 

“I came to apologize for the things I said, Y/N,” he says softly. “I know I made some assumptions without botherin’ to ask you if they’re true. I know you ain’t runnin’ with Colm out of affection. He’s the reason you gotta dress like a man, I’m guessing.” 

You nod and take your hat off. “Yes. If he ever finds out, I’m dead.” 

Arthur purses his lips a bit. “Well, darlin’, I… I’m wonderin’ if I can propose somethin’ to ya.” He waits for you to respond. When you don’t, he goes on. “I was thinkin’ you could abandon Colm, come with me into my gang. You’d be the safest there.” 

You look up at Arthur. “Does Dutch know? Does he know that I’m an O’Driscoll?” 

He sighs. “I told him about ya. He knows. He… weren’t too happy when I told him how I feel about ya. But I told him you’re little more than a prisoner with Colm. You’re only loyal out of fear.” 

You sigh and turn around to face the interior of the cabin. “I’m guessing it’s not enough to convince this Dutch to let me in. He’ll probably question my loyalty to him as well.” You turn and look at Arthur. “If I stay here, I’ll remain a prisoner. But if I go with you, I’ll still be a prisoner. Arthur, I’m trapped no matter what I do.” 

He walks in after you. “Not if I have anythin’ to say about it. It ain’t like I’m bringin’ ya in against your will. I got a lot of weight in my gang, Y/N. If I say you’re stayin’ and you’re alright, Dutch will listen to me. It’ll help a lot when he sees how useful you are to have around. Just help with the work and you’ll be accepted soon enough. I ain’t sayin’ it’ll be easy, but it might be the best chance you have.” 

He waits for you to respond. He’s right, of course. You know you’re already walking a thin line with Colm and it’s only going to get thinner. Arthur may very well be your salvation and, like he said, within the ranks of Colm’s greatest enemies is where you’ll be safest. 

“Do I have to keep on disguising myself?” you ask. 

Arthur smiles. “Absolutely not. We got plenty o’ women in camp and none of ‘em are ashamed of looking like women.” 

You smile and reach up, undoing your bun. It feels good to let your hair flow down just past your collarbones. You run a hand through it, aware you need a shower. You quickly change into a set of more feminine clothes, which you bought with Arthur a few weeks back. After washing your face, you look hardly recognizable from the man the O’Driscolls think you are. You’ll be able to slip past them easily enough.

“Okay, Mr. Morgan,” you say. “Take me to Van der Linde.” 

[daybreak-academy-fanfic]

Daybreak Academy: Chapter 94

I Trust You With Her

Summary: In which Kieran knows. Word Count: 1,764 First | Previous | Next ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

The more time Brain got to spend with Anora, the more furious he was becoming with Ephemer. Yeah, okay, so the silver haired headmasters' pet was a good leader. But why (why?!) would he dump Anora? Brain had spent too much time assuming the worst about her in the past. Taking advantage of others was the last thing on Anora's mind, and Brain felt like an idiot for not realizing that sooner. Seeing Anora outside of Daybreak Academy brought out a side of her that Brain doubted even Ephemer had the chance to see. Her humor, her opinions, even that secret kleptomania trait- all previously held back by being at a school full of strangers.

And then there was that smile- a smile so wide and genuine, she needed to use her whole face to express it. For that smile alone Brain wondered if he had actually fallen in love with Anora during the past month. It was almost funny in a rather bitter way. Was he the third person to have a crush on Anora now, or the twentieth? Unlike the others, he had done something unthinkable. He had taken something that didn't belong to him.

He now understood why Ephemer would come into the clubroom all giddy when they all knew he had been at Anora's dorm. Waking up beside that lovely lady was truly an honor. Brain would be a liar if he didn't say he would hug her a little tighter, and gently kiss the base of her neck if he woke up before her. Which, by the way, continued to infuriate him on Ephemer's choice to ditch her. The next time Brain saw Ephemer, there was going to be a battle- and it was not one Brain planned on losing. Ephemer should be here. Ephemer should have been Anora's first. Not Brain. He didn't deserve anything that involved Anora; absolutely none of it.

Now with only five days left until Christmas, Brain wondered what else this odd little family had in store for him. His curiosity was sated when Kieran knocked on his door.

“They're having a Christmas parade in town tomorrow,” he explained as he leaned against the door frame, as to not intrude on whatever Brain was doing, “A few of my buddies are putting together a little something on the back of their pick up. Wanna help us?”

“Of course.” Brain agreed without a second thought. He didn't notice the sigh of relief Kieran gave as he started to get ready to go.

“Great.” Kieran said, “I'll be leaving in about five. So just meet me at the drive lane.”

“Yep.” came the affirmative nod without so much a second glance.

The drive over to Kieran's friend's house was mostly spent in silence. Every now and again, Kieran would ask Brain about his family, and the younger man gladly offered up the information. When they finally got to Kieran's friend's house, Kieran was quick to allow Brain to meet his friends. One had a really light skin color, bright red eyeglasses, and was wearing bib overalls. The other had darker skin, frizzy hair that looked like it was trying to become a cloud, and his hands were far more calloused than any of the other's hands.

“Brain,” Kieran happily said to the young man, before gesturing to the man wearing overalls, “This is Bob,” He then gestured to the man with the calloused hands. “And this is Ross.” And to his friends, Kieran gave a simple nod before slapping a hand on Brain's shoulder. “Fellas, this is Brain. He's my baby cousin's boyfriend.”

“Pleasure to meet'cha Brain.” Bob nodded, even giving the younger man a light handshake.

“So Kieran's sister-cousin's got a boyfriend now.” Ross mused. “Geez, feels like just yesterday the poor doll couldn't utter more than three sentences to anyone. How'd she manage to snag you?”

“Sister-cousin?” Brain chose to repeat, instead of answering Ross's question. He gave Kieran an almost bemused half glance in wonder.

“Yeah!” Ross agreed with a wide grin. “Don't you know? Key and Nor's old men are identical twins, which technically makes them half siblings.”

“I… did not know that.” Brain admitted as he fingered the front rim of his fedora. Kieran looked over at Brain for a moment before turning back to Ross with a trickster grin.

“At least there isn't inbreeding in our family.”

“Now wait a minute!”

“Enough.” Bob snorted. “This float ain't gonna build itself, is it? We literally just have today to get it done.”

Ross was less than pleased to let the comment slide, grumbling words under his breath that he wouldn't dare completely utter with Brain around. But the men started to get to work regardless. They were going to use Ross's older pick up truck for the float, as simple as it was going to be. Bob and Brain worked to decorate a large piece of plywood that would be shaped and decorated into a large Christmas tree. Kieran was the one who carefully cut it out for them. Ross kept minding his truck, making sure it was set to run for the parade.

“Damn it.” he eventually mumbled when the truck sputtered out of life for the third time.

“You alright over there Ross?”

“Battery's dead,” came the annoyed grumble, “And Pop's got the jumper cables. I should probably do that now, yeah? Anyone wanna come with?”

“Take Bob with you.” Kieran immediately suggested. “Brain and I got this covered.”

“Don't I get a say in this?” Bob retorted. Despite being in his 30s, he still crossed his arms in defiance like a child.

“Sure you do,” Ross cheekily decided as he threw his arm around Bob's shoulders. “Just not today.”

Everyone but Bob laughed as the two men got into a car Brain assumed belonged to Bob. Brain and Kieran went back to their business not long after. Or, at least Brain did. Kieran kept a close eye on Bob's car as it pulled out and onto the road. After it was out of eye range, he looked over at Brain. A part of him seemed to tense before he carefully asked;

“How often have you and Anora bumped uglies so far?”

Brain almost choked on his own spit in shock. He wildly looked back at Kieran with wide eyes and a paling face. He quickly shook it off with a shake of his head. Of course Kieran would know. How could Kieran not know when it had been proven that he and Anora could be as thick as thieves.

“Once.” Brain admitted, not seeing any use in lying about it. “A few days after we arrived. She would like to do it again, I think I do too, but… But if something happens...”

Kieran studied Brain for a few moments. He returned to his task with a small, thoughtful sigh.

“She wasn't your first, was she?”

For this, Brain flinched just slightly.

“No, sir. She wasn't. The first -and before Anora, the last- was someone that I really loved, someone that I wanted to spend my whole life with.”

Kieran once more looked over at Brain to gauge his reactions- to see how good of a liar he was. So far, Brain had done nothing but radiate in an extreme confidence. Along with being a rather decent guy with showing Razzie attention. Now the young man looked vulnerable- almost heartbroken. The young man didn't need to say anything else about his previous lover, both of them got the hint.

“You've got a good head on your shoulders, Brain.” Kieran finally sighed. “I trust you with her. You have my permission as long as it's within reason. Just never give me a reason to take that back- got it?”

“Of course.” Brain agreed. And after that, they said nothing more about Anora.

. . .

Brain absolutely detested that making a conscious effort to do something was always harder than doing it unconsciously. He could almost feel the sweat accumulate in the palm of his hands. He never got this nervous. Ever. Cursing under his breath only alleviated some of the stress. It came in troves as he knocked on Anora's door.

Why was he this nervous?

Anora looked just as shocked to see him when she opened the door. If he didn't take his hat off while inside, Brain would have used it to hide his flushed face.

“Do you… mind if I come inside?” he asked. “I need to tell you something.”

She must have noticed how nervous he was, before she immediately nodded her head and let him in. Of course, she only lightly shuffled out of the way for him to enter. It was awkward as Anora then shut the door behind him, then turned around with her back against the door.

“What's wrong?” she finally tried to ask. Her voice was shaking, as if she expected to be in trouble for something. Brain had a sudden instinct to hug her. Instead, he pressed his lips into a line and averted his eyes away from her.

“Kieran knows.”

Anora's body immediately stiffened. She just as quickly turned away in shame. “O-oh...”

“And that's the funny thing,” Brain then went on, using a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “He's fine with it. Well, as fine as a brother could be, I guess.” He looked back over at her and let out a slow sigh. “I… liked teasing you. I want to do it again too. But I… I've been afraid. Permanent choices can be made from a moment's fun, Anora, and I don't want to put you in that situation.”

For a long time, she simply stared at him. Anora's chest lightly lifted and lowered as her breathing became slower. Brain unintentionally started to mirror her. The air around them felt heavy- it was becoming harder to breathe the longer they kept their gazes on each other.

“I don't care.” Anora finally breathed. “I just want you.”

At this simple assertion, both of them took a deep breath in. Brain was the one to break the spell first. He walked over to Anora as calmly as he could. He placed a hand against the side of her face- the young woman nearly swooned at the touch.

“I'm beginning to understand why Strelitzia couldn't stop herself from kissing you.” he murmured as he leaned close to her. “You have this… frequency, like a radio, and it's very, very...” He trailed off as the two met halfway to give the other a slow, passionate kiss.

[aion-rsa]

Warrior Season 2 Episode 3 Review: Not How We Do Business

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This Warrior review contains spoilers.

Warrior Season 2 Episode 3

“Not How We Do Business” sums up the latest episode of Warrior in two ways. First, it’s a line that Zing (Dustin Nguyen) lays on O’Hara (Kieran Biew) when he finally breaks away from being a debt collector for the Fung Hai. “Not how we do business” also works on a meta level, this episode only has one Kung Fu fight. That’s weak for a Bruce Lee inspired show. There are two other fight scenes, but they’re scrappy brawls the likes of which can be found in any action drama.

Bruce Lee fans want Kung Fu, and not just any Kung Fu. As part of the Little Dragon’s legacy, it must be great Kung Fu. The lone Kung Fu scene in this episode is good and serves to introduce a pivotal new character, but that’s not enough. It’s not how we do business. 

This episode begins with a missed opportunity where Ah Sahm (Anthony Koji) is in the Barbary Coast Fight Pit, facing off against another challenger. That would be great, but the fight is already over. The opening shot focuses upon his burly challenger, but he has already been knocked out and is just standing stunned, then there’s a shot of Ah Sahm, and then the challenger falls.

Seriously? No Kung Fu? Starting in the Fight Pit is fine dramatically but shortchanging the audience out of a fight is not the way to go for this show. It’s a big ripe piece of low hanging fruit left to rot. Bruce Lee fans crave gratuitous Kung Fu. Whenever Warrior goes to the Fight Pit, there had better be a fight.

After that, Ah Sahm’s fight manager Vega (Maria-Elena Laas) teases him with the promise of a bigger purse in some other international arena, a place where Warrior will hopefully go at some point this season, but not in this episode. Chao (Hoon Lee) pulls Ah Sahm aside and implies that he knows about the molasses plot that he and Young Jun (Jason Tobin) are cooking up, and that he’s concerned over Ah Sahm’s rivalry with Mai Ling (Dianne Doan). Chao comments “I don’t see any version of that ending well” which comes as no surprise to anyone. If this all ended well, there’d be no fight scenes. 

Enter Hong – the New Guy in the Hop Wei

The centerpiece of the episode is the introduction of a new character, Hong (Chen Tang). Chen Tang just portrayed Yao in the new Mulan. In the original Disney animated film, Yao was Mulan’s hard ass comrade, and in contrast, he’s the shortest character (unless you count Mushu and Cri-Kee). The live action Mulan changed a lot – Yao was still the hard ass, but now he’s 6 feet tall and a less significant role. Nevertheless, Chen is a great addition to Warrior, exuding a southern charm because he was raised in Memphis and has a natural southern accent in real life, but he covers that up for Warrior. 

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Hong arrives ‘fresh off the boat’ with a batch of new recruits, hatchet men ordered from China by Father Jun (Perry Yung). Their appearance makes Young Jun nervous that Father Jun might be on to his non-Chinese molasses scheme. He’s also suspicious of Hong’s attempts to weasel his way in with them. Nonetheless, Young Jun and Ah Sahm agree to take Hong to a brothel. There Ah Sahm discovers Hong is gay but sympathetically keeps that secret. 

After that, the threesome stumble across some Fung Hai gangsters in the streets and Hong, either eager to impress or just hungry to kick some ass, takes them all out by himself. It’s a good introduction and reveals his expertise with whip chain. A whip chain is a traditional Chinese weapon, one that can be easily concealed as a trusty everyday carry for a Tong man. Chen Tong delivers a decent first fight scene with it. As weapons go, the whip chain requires more skill to wield than a nunchaku. Hong deploys both the whip chain’s striking and entangling methods proficiently, although the scene is in a dark alley and the shadows can conceal a multitude of sins. Chen Tong lists skills in Stage Combat, Karate, Kung Fu and Tai Chi on his resume and claims he did some preparation for the role of Hong studying Chinese whip chain and the Japanese equivalent manriki-gusari.

One of the best things about Warrior is the relationship between Ah Sahm and Young Jun. They have an earnest chemistry as two gangsters being gangsters, delivering beat downs, slinging molasses, and chasing sticky. This camaraderie is commonplace for buddy films and TV partners but it’s exceedingly rare and delightfully refreshing to see this for two Asian men in a Western production. Both Ah Sahm and Young Jun have a lot to prove and their connection is palpable. Hong brings a new lighter tone as the third wheel to their partnership. They already seem to be bonding as a threesome which is promising for the rest of the season. 

In the Room Where It Happens

Mai Ling (Dianne Doan) and Li Yong (Joe Taslim) pay a visit to the Fung Hai lair so she can scold Zing (Dustin Nguyen). Walking into Zing’s room is a gutsy move for Mai Ling, but with Li Yong at her side, she’s fearless. Zing agrees to Mai Ling’s terms, but not before she shares a ritual drink of mare’s milk with him. Mare’s milk, or Kumis, is a unique fermented drink because few alcoholic beverages are dairy derived. It’s usually not that strong, nor is it the disgusting chunky chowder depicted in Warrior but the Mongols are stereotyped as barbarians, just as they were in Mulan, so it’s depicted as revolting. Mongolians are poorly represented in film and television. Project their media depictions upon any other race and the generally disparaging tone is evident. 

On the way out, a Fung Hai thug gets up in Li Yong’s face and gets throat punched for his trouble. Don’t mess witjj Li Yong. Knowing Li Yong could destroy his crew, Zing calls off his man saying “Be thankful for your pain. It means you’re still alive.”

Much to Li Yong’s dismay, Mai Ling echoes this line towards the end of the episode, making him wonder if his boss is headed down the wrong path like Zing. While everyone in Warrior has their dark side, Zing has emerged as the villain with no redeemable qualities. Taslim brings a guarded nobility to Li Yong as Warrior’s most badass fighter; he’s loyal to Mai Ling, his lover and boss, but not blindly so. This, along with Taslim’s martial expertise, makes Li Yong one of the more intriguing characters. Mai Ling, like most of the rest of the cast, is another character with a lot to prove.

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Later, Zing, being the barbarous Mongol villain, threatens Chao (Hoon Lee) over delivering weapons. Chao, always the manipulator, discusses Zing with Mai Ling. Then later, Chao meets with Li Yong alone. Over bowls of noodles, Chao proposes a way to avoid war, teasing some coming intrigue to take Zing down. Everyone is aligning against Zing and the anticipation of this inevitable showdown is promising.

Sophie (Celine Buckens) sneaks into Leary’s (Dean Jagger) back room at the Banshee and finds his map of factories that use coolies. While she’s smart enough to realize that Leary is behind the factory firebombing, she somehow overlooks that Mercer Steel has got to be among those circled on that map too. Clearly her sister’s company is on the Irish workers hit list because they were beating up the coolies headed to Mercer until Penny (Joanna Vanderham) hired the Hop Wei for protection against them. Sophie and Leary finally hook up and Leary unwittingly echoes Chao saying, “This isn’t going to end well.” By now, the audience is well aware it’s not going to end well and has their collective fingers crossed that it will end in a massive Kung Fu fight at the very least. 

As they have a post-coital stroll, Sophie suggests that Leary get into politics with a nod to Hamilton by suggesting he should “be in the room where it happens.” Leary calls Sophie out when she says she “knows.” She’s an entitled upper-class woman and hasn’t seen the tragedy that Leary has. He tells Sophie of some of the horrors he witnesses, of friends and family starving, and starts to pull away from her until she draws him back. It gives Leary more context.

Given the era, Leary likely escaped the Great Irish Famine (1945-1849). Over a quarter million Irish emigrated to the New World and Leary would be part of that generation. The Irish are struggling too. During that period, Irish immigrants made up most of San Francisco’s working class and about one-third of the city’s population. This is another way Warrior sheds light upon a dark period of history.

Police Beatdowns

The other two fight scenes come from the cops. The first is short. Lee (Tom Weston-Jones) returns to Nora’s (Gaosi Raditholo) tavern where he got rolled last episode to exact revenge. He goes full copper, night-sticking and shooting up the joint until he gets his cash back. With Lee, Weston-Jones is echoing his role as Kevin “Corky” Corcoran, in his previous TV show Copper. Corky was an Irish detective in a period drama set in the late 18th century, the same era as Warrior. This is not so much of a bar fight as it is a cop taking out a few unarmed barflies. 

When a debtor’s wife flashes a gratuitous boob at O’Hara, offering him sex to pay her husband’s bills to the Fung Hai, it’s the last straw and he finally quits the Fung Hai. Even though O’Hara has repaid his debt, Zing exacts revenge by sending Tong men to invade his home and threaten his family. This happens right after dinner where Lee had been their guest. Lee comes to the rescue, revolver blazing, and a scrappy bit of violence ensues where O’Hara’s son and wife must defend themselves too. It’s a brutal sanguineous scene, leaving everyone dead or splattered with blood, ending this episode in a bloody mess. 

Warrior Season 2 can be seen exclusively on CINEMAX.

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[themluckyfew-moved]

1 and 2 for in depth ask game ^w^

Thanks for asking!! Sorry it took me so long to get to these QwQ I think I'll answer these two for Kieran because I'm in that.. yeehaw mood,,,

1) Your FO is watching you, love in their eyes and filled with adoration. What does that look like, and how does it feel?

Oh god okay first of all just imagining it has me

How do I even start to describe this without babbling hHHRHJDOA IM GONNA TRY.. TO MAKE THIS COHERENT.. OKAY....

HE'S SO F T ... How do you even describe how someone looks at you when they're so full of love for you how do you fjfjtbkrjdjdoksksje- Kieran, for the most part, is very soft spoken. He's reclusive, he just kind of... Lingers. But there's little moments I catch him staring and he jsutndj.... His eyes are so bright yet so soft at the same time, a small smile spread over his lips, it looks like he's daydreaming but his daydream is right in front of him. If I had to infer what was going on in his head it would be something like,

"wow I'm fucking lucky. My boyfriend is so handsome... How did I ever manage to catch someone like THAT- oh god he's looking at me act natural-"

I AM FILLED WITH SO MUCH LOVE FOR THIS STINKY MAN AND WHEN I CATCH HIM STARING HE GETS FLUSTERED AND MOVES ON LIKE HE WASN'T DOING ANYTHING AND I LOVE HIM ಥ_ಥ I don't know how descriptive that was or if it even answered the question but here we are. I can't say much else without gibberish

2) How long did it take your FO to trust you enough to let their guard down around you? Was it an instant thing, or did they have to work towards it? And if they had to work, do you remember the moment that things changed? Describe that moment.

I can answer this without keyspamming because its actually story based and something I've been wanting to write out as part of a chapter fic! :))

It took Kieran awhile to warm up. Not as long as it took for him to warm to the Van Der Lindes, but still quite a bit. He's jumpy and nervous and paranoid, so imagine his paranoia when these street rats (aka me and my small group I forced into this with me) run into their camp apparently having escaped from O'Driscolls.

I'm gonna have to go third person with this hhhhj story shit, my writer's brain is having a stroke.

Sure, Kieran nursed Ross's horse back to health, but it still took quite awhile before either of them were fully warmed up to each other. Arthur told Ross that Kieran was a former O'Driscoll and Ross did his best to avoid the poor horse lad. During this time, Kieran also kept to himself. Yet another person that would end up treating him poorly in this camp, he was used to it... But the changing point came one night when Kieran saw Ross sitting by his fire on the outskirts of camp.

He warily approaches, says hi, tries to be civil... Ross apologizes for taking Kieran's spot and goes to leave but Kieran stops him. He's gotten to know all of Ross's friends, but not Ross himself. And despite how Ross had been avoiding him...he still wanted to know who he was. So Ross stayed by the fire, the two having a small chat. It turned into Kieran telling Ross his past with the O'Driscolls, which hit a nerve with Ross and he apologized for being so mean to Kieran before. Kieran accepted the apology and the two ended up growing closer. Ross eventually told Kieran about his family and how he destroyed his family home to escape the abusive situation he was in.

They basically spent the entire night sharing stories from each other's past and that's how the two started to bond. They had similar backgrounds with being alone and mistreated at young ages and as the weeks went on they became each other's support system. Kieran basically dropped his guard the moment Ross apologized to him, because no one else in the gang had truly done that. Not even Arthur. Kieran could see that Ross was actually making an effort to understand him and he liked that, and he continued to make the effort to understand who Ross was as well uwu

These answers probably made no sense but I tried

[blackthorn-brekker]

Walls of Glass - Part Numero Uno

“Emma Carstairs one-shot. Emma Carstairs, following the destruction of the Cohort and during the dissolving of the Cold Peace, Emma Carstairs takes a break from the madness to partake in her travel year. She decides to visit Mexico City and her good friends Cristina Mendoza Rosales and Mark Blackthorn, now engaged to be married. Things happen (I’m not sure what yet so I’ll have to edit this later and if I don’t then you’re welcome to this lovely little bit of text; you’re welcome).

The Mexico City Institute was not hard for Emma to see, and it certainly wasn’t easy to miss, it was just that it wasn’t, upon her arrival, the first thing she was concentrating on.

No. Instead, her immediate focus was drawn to Cristina Mendoza Rosales, who had not so long ago taken her own travel year at the Los Angeles Institute, the place Emma had seen as a second home for so long, and know her first and only real home with the Blackthorn family. Cristina, in the short time, had firmly cemented herself as a staple of the Blackthorns’ and Emma’s life, and found her true loves: Mark Blackthorn, second oldest of the Blackthorn siblings, and Kieran Kingson, now King of the Unseelie Court. 

Emma herself didn’t entirely understand how Mark, Kieran and Cristina’s love triangle dynamic worked, but, hey, if her friend was happy and they treated her right, she was all for it. She also knew that Kieran, as Unseelie King, wasn’t technically allowed to have human consorts, let alone Shadowhunter ones (well, half-Shadowhunter ones, in Mark’s case), so she wondered how that worked and how the rest of the Unseelie faeries felt about it, but didn’t spend too much time milling over their love lives. 

Presently, Cristina ran across the deserted Mexico road, her shiny black hair flying out behind her and a simple yellow sundress swinging on her frame. Emma barely had time to take in the Institute’s grand appearance, or Mark, who came tumbling out of the doors, or any of the other mundane establishments that obliviously surrounded the Mexico City Institute, when Cristina was on her, her suntanned arms flung around Emma’s neck. She knocked Emma flying, and the contents of Emma’s suitcases went flying through the air; the two of them fell back onto the patch of greenery which was shaded over by a single tree, and where the taxi had dropped Emma.

“Emma!” “Tina!” Emma laughed, pushing Cristina off of her with a laugh. “What were you planning on doing with my body once you’d strangled me?” Cristina laughed and leant back on her elbows in the midday sunshine. 

“Sorry, Emma,” she said. She was beaming all over her face and looking at Emma with a strange look that she couldn’t decipher: it was a mixture of pride and content and extreme excitement.

“Are you gonna tell me, or -” Emma began to ask, but, before she could finish, Cristina had cried out with a smile,

“Mark and I are engaged!” 

“Oh.” Emma said, with a solemn nod, not really taking in what Cristina was saying, but then she realised. “Oh! That kind of engaged!”

“Yes,” Cristina laughed, but Emma expected this was more of a nervous excitement. Cristina’s beaming lit up every single sun kissed feature of her face: her eyes were glinting with happiness, and her white teeth shone in the sunshine. “You’ll be my bridesmaid, of course?”

“Honey, have you met me?” Emma asked with raised eyebrows. Cristina blinked her confusion. “Uh, yes!” 

“Oh, good,” Cristina laughed. “I’m so, so glad. I couldn’t bear the thought of getting married without my best friend there. Mark’s going to ask Julian to be his best man, of course, so we’ll have to get hold of him as soon as possible -” “What about Kieran?” Emma asked abruptly. She couldn’t figure out how the faerie king would fit into the equation: faerie Kings and Queens weren’t allowed human consorts, and, to her knowledge, neither Shadowhunter nor mundane laws allowed three-way marriages. 

“Kieran?” Cristina repeated blankly, her mouth a perfect, surprised, ‘O’.

“Yes,” Emma replied slowly, in the same voice she’d heard Julian use a thousand times over when trying to explain something to Ty. I wonder how he is, Emma thought suddenly. I wonder how they all are. Helen and Ty and Dru and Tavvy. She’d slept through the nearly four-hour flight from Los Angeles to Mexico City, and, once she’d gotten off the plane, her first and most excited thought had been of Cristina. The Blackthorn family had never been so separated, what with Mark here in Mexico, Julian taking his own travel year in London, Helen, Ty, Dru and Tavvy still in LA, and Livvy - well, best not to think about that. She’d have to call Helen later.

“Yes,” she said now. “Kieran. Your third third. Angry guy. Always scowling. Hot when he can be bothered. Weasel face. The King of the Unseelie? Jeez, Tina, I thought you’d remember a guy like that.”

“I know who you mean,” Cristina said, and her eyes darkened and her cheeks reddened. Mark had joined them: his skin was less pale due to the scorching South American sun he’d faced over the past few weeks, and his pale blonde hair was longer than the last time Emma had seen him, curling around his cheekbones and resting on his collar. There was only some resemblance to Julian in him, in his blue eye, in the shape of his face, in the set of his chin and jaw. His faerie heritage was evident in the slight taper of his ears.

“He knows,” Mark explained for the seemingly dumbstruck Cristina. “He’s happy and will be attending, of course, even if the Unseelie Court technically forbids it. Although not by law, we are all married to each other in soul and spirit.”

“Aww,” Emma cooed. She put her hand over her heart and pouted mockingly. “That is so sweet.”

“I see we’ve reverted back to our first language of sarcasm,” Mark remarked with one crooked eyebrow and a slight curve to his lips. 

“And I see we’ve reverted back to archaic British English?” Emma teased. Mark smiled fully now, and drew her in for a brief hug.

“It’s good to see you again, Emma.”

She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder - the soft, golden tresses that she knew Julian so loved to paint - in imitation of someone she’d seen before, but she couldn’t quite think of who. Isabelle Lightwood or even - although she shuddered to think about her - Zara Dearborn. 

“Don’t I know it.”

Cristina laughed, and bent to retrieve some of Emma’s discarded clothes, which lay dreary and crumpled on the pavement. 

“Come on, Em,” she said warmly. “Let’s get you inside and we can explain more.”

The inside of the Mexico City Institute was quite different to the interior of the Los Angeles Institute. It was decorated with far more personal touches: pots of flowers of every hue and species - reds and blues and yellows and purples - and there were many, many photographs of Cristina and the Rocio Rosales, brothers Diego and Jaime, all through childhood into their teen years, and a few more recent ones - including some of Cristina and Mark and even Kieran.

There was a large staircase immediately in front of the doors, which led onto a platform with a huge stained glass window; two more sets of stairs led up from it in opposite directions. The window depicted the Angel Raziel, rising up out of Lake Lyn, holding both the Mortal Cup and the Mortal Sword - which Emma slightly sheepishly recalled shattering with her blade Cortana the year before - in marvellous hues of yellow and gold and blue in green, far more splendid and magnificent than anything even Julian could paint. The Shadowhunters’ motto was carved in the stone beneath the window: ‘Descensus facilis Averno est’, or ‘The decent into Hell is easy’. Emma shivered to think of the window shattering and the fires of Hell rising up in its place, engulfing the Institute. She blinked; the image left her mind almost immediately.

Two people were stood in front of the window, deeply conversing in Spanish: one was a small, dark woman who resembled Cristina, and the other was a tall, robust young man with curling dark hair and a faint but twisted scar across the side of his face. Emma recognised him immediately.

“Perfect Diego?” The boy, Diego Rocio Rosales - or, as he should have been called, Inquisitor Rosales, his proper title, as appointed by Consul Lightwood (Alec, another friend of Emma’s) - looked up from the conversation he was having with who could only be Cristina’s mother. Diego’s mouth curled into a reluctant smile when he saw Emma, and his eyes lit up with unexpected mischief. Emma recalled Cristina first explaining how a beautiful, wonderful boy had broken her heart, and then meeting that boy and discovering that he had tried to kill Julian. Emma had wanted to kill Diego then, both for hurting Cristina and hurting Julian (even if it was a case of mistaken identity), but then she had grown to appreciate his presence, and even see him as a friend. Then how he had turned out to be engaged to a Downworld-hating bigot, Zara Dearborn, whom Emma had attempted to kill on more than one occasion, and had turned out to be more than slightly crazy. She remembered Diego doing everything he could to save his brother, Jaime, even after the cruelty the Cohort had forced on them. She remembered Diego being nearly killed by a faerie following the battle against the Cohort and King Oban, Kieran’s crazed brother. All in all, she remembered a lot, not all good, but not all bad, either.

“Sorry, I meant Inquisitor Rosales,” she quickly amended, not quite keeping the sarcasm out of her tone.

“Emma Carstairs,” he said, turning to look at her. “I never thought I’d say I got to see you for a reason other than misbehaviour.” “Do you really think so lowly of me?” she asked, pretending to be hurt and cocking her head. “And I thought we were friends.”

Diego laughed, coming down the stairs to meet them and talk more properly.  He looked at her with wide, hopeful dark eyes. “But we are, aren’t we?”

“Charmer,” she laughed, swatting away the hand he had held out. “You know exactly what’s going on with Jules and I.”

“And you know that I have a new girlfriend,” he said, also pretending to look offended. “I cannot believe you think so lowly of me, Emma.”

“So things worked out with you and Divya then?” she asked, genuinely intrigued. Divya Joshi was an Indian Shadowhunter, a Centurion trained at the Scholomance as Diego himself was before he was promoted to the post of Inquisitor. Emma had guessed that Divya and Diego were interested in each other the last time they had all been together, but everything had been such a whirlwind after that - Magnus and Alec’s wedding, so many funerals, the election of the new Consul, and then suddenly her travel year - that she hadn’t given it much thought.

“Yes,” Diego said, with an air of pride. “We’re actually engaged as well, as I’m sure Cristina and Mark have told you they are.”

“Oh, by the Angel, I’ve just realised something,” Emma said, hoping she sounded quite stricken. She clapped her hand over her mouth for dramatic effect, and was pleased when Diego, Cristina and Mark all looked at her in confusion and slight panic. Cristina even gripped her arm as if afraid Emma might fall to the floor. “It’s not going to be a double wedding, is it?”

She distinctly heard Cristina whisper, “Emma,” under her breath before leading Emma up the stairs and past the beautiful window and her mother, as both Emma and Mark shook with silent laughter.

[faydingrain]

Hello I’m here to talk about a potential fic idea

SO I recently finally decided on a name for the third party in the police brutality squad- Sweeheart cop trio, which is Kieran, and his ability which is shadow manipulation.

(For those who haven’t seen it, here is his picrew since I haven’t drawn him yet:)

But while I was deciding, I thought about making him an air elemental because like, it seems like we haven’t had good air-powers rep yet, and I had the idea to maybe have him meet Lasko because then they could be air elemental buddies!! But then I decided on shadow powers because this is my fanonverse, so heck why not? But then I still kinda wanted to have them meet because I thought they’d vibe.

So, an idea finally struck me! And it’s something like, it’s raining out and Lasko doesn’t have an umbrella. He tries to brave the weather but ends up slipping when Kieran catches him before he hits the ground. Kieran has an umbrella with him and offers to take him home, and Lasko is super flustered and thinks this rando guy is really attractive (because I’m god here and I say so), and declines since he’s just going to another location I haven’t decided yet.

Well, Kieran is going somewhere close to that area, so he offers to walk with him since they’re going the same direction, and Lasko eventually agrees. So, maybe they start up some small talk as they’re walking, and maybe they’ll learn each other’s occupations or something. I’m not sure how Lasko would react to Kieran working for the department, but I’ll think on that more later.

So, at some point, maybe Kieran’s phone goes off or something and he asks Lasko to hold the umbrella for them. Soon after, a gust of wind blows by and Lasko nearly loses it. Kieran reaches out to help him grab it and grabs his hand to help him grip the umbrella handle. Lasko is super flustered, but Kieran kinda acts like it’s no big deal, then moves his hand at some point saying something like “sorry, did I squeeze too hard?” or something. (Just to sneak in some sneaky hand-holding.)

Finally, they reach their first destination, which happens to be Kieran’s. He offers to walk Lasko to his destination, but Lasko declines, saying that he’s nearby the other place so he could just run there. He offers to give him the umbrella, but Lasko declines that too. Not wanting to leave things as they were, Kieran finally pulls out a pen and notepad, writes his number, and hands it and the umbrella to Lasko saying “Give me a call when you’re ready to give the umbrella back.” So Lasko, flustered as hell, agrees to do so and quickly runs off.

And to end it all, Kieran goes inside his place, and as soon as he has a moment to, he lets out all his nervous energy wondering how the hell did he pull off being that smooth when he was so nervous he could barely breathe. But, he managed to give this Lasko guy his number, so mayyybe he’ll get a call back? Or maybe Lasko didn’t even get the message and is just a really shy dude? He can only hope he didn’t just make an ass of himself at the very least, him and Lasko could be friends or something.

ANYWAYS, I just needed to get that ramble off my chest. Will I do it? I have no idea, but the thought exists now

[thisdaynews]

Rugby World Cup: New Zealand v Ireland - radio & text

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/rugby-world-cup-new-zealand-v-ireland-radio-text/

Rugby World Cup: New Zealand v Ireland - radio & text

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Got a TV Licence?

You need one to watch live TV on any channel or device, and BBC programmes on iPlayer. It’s the law.

Find out more

Live Reporting

By Alex Bysouth

All times stated are UK

Posted at 10:0710:07

No time for goodbyes

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Lose, and this will be Joe Schmidt’s final game in charge of the Irish team and Rory Best’s last match as a professional player.

Both have said they will retire after the World Cup.

Posted at 10:0510:05

‘Can’t be second fiddle’

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

PA MediaCopyright: PA Media

Ireland coach Joe Schmidt:“You can’t go out against an All Blacks side and accept you are second fiddle.

“There are a number of players within the side that have contributed to a fair bit of history for us.

“The first win over the All Blacks, the first time we won at home against the All Blacks, but a few other milestones along the way.”

Posted at 10:0510:05

Post update

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Looks like the All Blacks’ social media squad are just as nifty as their rugby-playing companions…

Posted at 10:0510:05

Post update

Denis Hickie

Former Ireland winger

The win over New Zealand 12 months ago feels a long time ago considering where Ireland are now. They weren’t able to kick on from that game and the Six Nations really didn’t go well for them.

The performances in the warm-ups were mixed and they’ve taken that into the World Cup.

Posted at 10:0410:04

Ashton predicts…

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Video content

Video caption: Rugby Union Weekly’s Chris Ashton makes his predictions for the World Cup quarter-finalsRugby Union Weekly’s Chris Ashton makes his predictions for the World Cup quarter-finals

Posted at 10:0210:02

Lowry to bring magic touch?

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Getty ImagesCopyright: Getty Images

The Ireland squad were visited this week by a man who knows a thing or two about pulling off a sporting shock…

Golfer Shane Lowry, who won his first major at The Open at Portrush earlier this year, will also be in the stands to follow the quarter-final clash in Tokyo.

Joe Schmidt’s side will be hoping he can lend them a touch of that Claret Jug magic…

Posted at 10:0010:00

Post update

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

BBC Radio 5 Live are across this one – tune in to follow all the build-up with just 15 minutes now to go until kick-off…

Click the link at the top of this page to listen, stick on t’wireless or use the BBC Sounds app.

Posted at 9:589:58

Post update

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Ireland may have won two of their past three meetings with the All Blacks, but this is a very different New Zealand side to the won they felled 11 months ago.

Centre Jack Goodhue and scrum-half Aaron Smith are the only starting backs who played in that defeat in Dublin last year, which is also the last time the All Blacks failed to score a try.

Twelve players who began Ireland’s victory last November keep their place with Robbie Henshaw, Conor Murray and Iain Henderson replacing Bundee Aki, Kieran Marmion and Devin Toner.

Posted at 9:569:56

All Blacks trust in youth

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Getty ImagesCopyright: Getty Images

New Zealand have trusted Jack Goodhue and Anton Leinert-Brown, both 24, to solve their midfield conundrum, while the experienced Brodie Retallick is named at lock despite little game time in Japan.

Retallick, capped 78 times, was restricted to just 30 minutes of action, against Namibia, in the group stages as he returned from a dislocated shoulder but will renew his vastly experienced partnership with Sam Whitelock in the second row.

Beauden Barrett will once again operate at full-back with Richie Mo’unga at fly-half while Cody Taylor is preferred to Dane Coles at hooker.

Experienced duo Ryan Crotty and Ben Smith are not included in Steve Hansen’s matchday 23 with Sonny Bill Williams only among the replacements.

Posted at 9:529:52

Post update

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Getty ImagesCopyright: Getty Images

The Ireland fans are out in force in Tokyo.

Going through their line-out routines with a boot… there’ll be one chilly-footed fan at the stadium.

Getty ImagesCopyright: Getty Images

Posted at 9:519:51

On the market…

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Video content

Video caption: Hottest ticket in town – Irish and Japanese fans face quarter-final swapHottest ticket in town – Irish and Japanese fans face quarter-final swap

Posted at 9:519:51

Ticket troubles

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Michael Morrow

BBC Sport NI at Tokyo Stadium

Ireland fans are once again here in numbers, with many of them leaving it late to secure their ticket for Saturday’s second quarter-final.

Last night there was a hastily arranged but by all accounts immensely successful ticket swap held near Tokyo’s Asakusa Station for fans who had jumped the gun in booking their quarter-final tickets.

When planning their trip a fair few Irish fans predicted, not unreasonably, that their side would top Pool A and therefore feature on Sunday night.

Of course, Ireland didn’t finish top of their pool, leaving many an Irish fan with a ticket for Japan v South Africa as opposed to their team’s meeting with the All Blacks.

Despite the drama, there’s no shortage of green inside the stadium, noise shouldn’t be an issue either.

Posted at 9:509:50

Rested? Or undercooked?

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Getty ImagesCopyright: Getty Images

With their final pool match against Italy being called off, New Zealand head into the knockout stages well rested – but is there a danger they could be underdone, having not played for 13 days?

“Having a week off is not a bad thing. It’s allowed us to work really hard last Friday,” said coach Steve Hansen.

“Our GPS numbers were equivalent or just above what a normal Test match would be so we don’t feel like we’ve lost any opportunity to get ourselves where we need to be.”

Posted at 9:489:48

All Blacks hit their straps

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

New Zealand topped Pool B despite their final group game with Italy being cancelled because of Typhoon Hagibis.

Steve Hansen’s side remain on course for a third consecutive World Cup after passing their biggest test on the opening weekend with a 23-13 win over South Africa in Yokohama, before breezing past Namibia and Canada.

Despite their scheduled encounter with the Italians being called off, the All Blacks qualified for the knockout stages with the highest average points (52) of any side in the competition.

Posted at 9:459:45

Post update

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Don’t want to sway your opinion, but this is what Opta reckons…

Posted at 9:449:44

comments

Get Involved – pick your World Cup winner…

#bbcrugby

After England swatted aside Australia earlier, and with two-time defending champions New Zealand about to get under way, we want to know who is best placed to win the World Cup, and why?

Can Ireland halt the All Blacks? Will hosts Japan spring another surprise against South Africa? Will Wales maintain their title hopes against France?

Let us know using #bbcrugby

Posted at 9:419:41

Post update

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Posted at 9:419:41

Hansen to ‘set-up’ Schmidt?

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Getty ImagesCopyright: Getty Images

New Zealand coach Steve Hansen hinted earlier in the week he could “set-up” Ireland boss Joe Schmidt with his approach for the quarter-final.

Schmidt is renowned for his detailed analytical approach, with the New Zealander has guided Ireland to two victories over the All Blacks in their past three meetings.

“We’ve got weaknesses like everybody else, so you’ve got to look at your own weaknesses as much as anybody else’s,” said Hansen.

“You know that Joe does a lot of studies, so that can be a strength and a weakness. I might be able to set him up.”

Posted at 9:399:39

‘Surreal’ moment for Sexton

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

ReutersCopyright: Reuters

Conor Murray and Johnny Sexton will become Ireland’s most-capped starting half-back duo as they line up together for the 56th time.

Speaking to the media on Friday, Ireland fly-half Sexton said it is “a little bit surreal”.

“It’s been a long time in the back of our minds, this quarter-final,” Sexton said. “We’re here now. It’s a little bit ‘I can’t believe it’s finally here’.”

Posted at 9:379:37

Sexton takes the lead

Ireland v New Zealand (11:15 BST)

Michael Morrow

BBC Sport NI at Tokyo Stadium

This week the Irish press corps were treated to two media conference masterclasses from Johnny Sexton.

The first was the morning after Ireland’s win over Samoa in Fukuoka and Sexton made sure the media were well aware of the buoyant, confident mood running through the camp as he fielded every question in a jovial manner.

The second, at yesterday’s ‘captain’s run’ during which Sexton was the only Irish player to make the trip across Tokyo to the stadium from the team base near Disneyland, was all about quiet confidence and focus.

He had a kind word about his younger team-mates, batted away questions about the potential for this to be Joe Schmidt’s last game and told us that his team were excited, not nervous.

Off the pitch he’s pretty impressive, but he’s better and much more crucial still on it. If Ireland are to get a win today, their best player is going to need to be firing on all cylinders from the first minute.

Read More

[eyez-ff-blog]

○○ eyez | twenty-three

July 3, 2016

“United Airlines would like to welcome you to Houston, Texas...” The pilot spoke over the intercom as the plane had slowed to a crawl as it traveled to reach the designated gate. The announcement interrupted Beija’s movie, and she glanced up as she began to prepare to exit the plane. She looked over at Jermaine who opted for the window seat—he was barely waking up from his in-air nap.

Once the vehicle came to a complete stop, the couple began to grab their carry-on bags and was off the plane quickly. They approached baggage claim, and as Jermaine grabbed their bags, she looked around for the area they needed to get to in order to get a rental car. “Hm... I think it’s this way,” She pointed, and she headed off towards the rental car kiosks with Jermaine following close behind.

Agreeing on renting a simple SUV, they made the lengthy trip from North Houston to the Southwestern side of town, the sights looking more and more familiar to Beija and bringing her a sense of pure nostalgia. She hadn’t been home to truly enjoy her time since during the Forest Hills Drive Tour, so to be able to come out of leisure and not business was bound to be a memorable experience, especially considering that she was about to introduce J to her family. He would be the first guy she had ever brought home and though she constantly tried to convince Jermaine to keep his cool, she herself was anxious. Her parents were very hard to please and her brothers were extremely protective; she just hoped everyone could get along.

She continued to drive as Jermaine sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with his phone. Beija had found another potential artist—two, to be exact. “So what did you think of the group I found? One guy, one girl; they’re pretty good. Kinda how Gnarls Barkley was,” She explained as she turned into her old neighborhood.

“They’re kinda dope. Dude’s got production skills out of this world...got ol’ girl sounding cosmic,” J laughed softly. “I’mma forward this to Ib and see what he thinks about it,” He decided.

“Cool. I’ve got some more people I saw if that doesn’t work out, but I think if we branch out with our artists then we can really expand the brand,” She explained, and she glanced over to see Jermaine watching her, a slick smirk etched upon his features. “What?” She laughed.

“I kinda like when you talk business,” He said before he let out a small chuckle. “It’s sexy,” He added.

“Boy, bye. Don’t be trying to talk slick right now,” She chuckled before she turned down the street, stopping in front of the fourth house on the right. “Well, here we are! What do you think?” She asked.

She watched as J peered up at the large home, and he nodded slowly. “Wow,” He mumbled before he nodded. “I see you, big baller. This a nice place,” He smiled.

“Ha, not big baller. But it’s home,” She shut off the engine before she climbed out of the car. She unlocked the trunk so she could get some of the bags. She peeked from behind her car when she heard the door open, and she squealed. “Marquis!”

The man had to have been in his early twenties and at least six feet. Much like his older sister, his skin was dark and smooth, and he had a broad smile that seemingly could charm a nun into sin. His hair was the only bright thing on his body; the shortened dreads that sat on the top of them were a bright brown mixed with the dark brown he was born with. “BB!” He scooped her into her arms, and the two laughed as they hugged. “Welcome home, sis. How was the flight?” He asked.

“Everything was smooth,” She said as he took some of the bags. “Everyone’s inside?” She asked, and he nodded.

“Uh-huh—ready to see you,” He glanced up before he chuckled at the sight of Jermaine. “I honestly thought everyone was lying when they said this was your dude; what’s up, man?” The two shook hands.

“How you doing,” J greeted politely before he chuckled and looked between the two siblings. “Ain’t no way you could deny that’s your brother, B. Y’all look just alike,” He observed.

“Don’t get it twisted—I’m the most attractive of us,” Marquis joked before he took the bags from J’s hands. “Don’t worry, I got it,” He insisted.

The couple followed Marquis inside the house, and Beija smiled at the familiarity of the home—pictures of her family were pretty much everywhere and aside from some décor changes, it felt like home and all the love that came with it. This used to be a much more somber place after Rashaad had been murdered but with time, the family had found their way back to the way they used to be, even if it was just for a moment.

“Auntie!” Beija looked down to see a flurry of black hair as the young girl ran over to her, hugging her legs. Alonzo’s daughter was the only niece that Beija had for the moment, but she was someone that Beija loved almost like her own kid.

“Hi babe!” She picked the girl up and hugged her tightly before kissing her cheek. “I missed you,” She declared, noticing the girl staring over at Jermaine, who was silently surveying the house himself. “You wanna introduce yourself?” She chuckled as she bumped J’s hip, making him pay attention. “This is my niece, Logan. Lo, this is my boyfriend Jermaine,” She said.

“Hi,” Logan smiled before she hid her face within Beija’s shoulder, peeking up at the man as B let out a small chuckle.

“Hey, babygirl. It’s nice to meet you,” J smiled before he held out his hand, and Logan took it before shaking it lightly.

“He’s pretty, auntie,” Logan whispered to B, who laughed a bit as she ventured further into the house, heading into the living room.

“Hi guys!” She announced her arrival, and she was soon met with hugs and affection from her family. The house was full of people—not only were her parents present, but her brothers and their spouses as well. She made her rounds with greeting everyone until she finally got to her parents. “Hey mama, hey daddy,” She hugged them both as she spoke.

“You’re getting more hair every time I see you,” Alisha shook her head as she ran a hand over the younger woman’s unruly curls.

“That’s your genes, you know you two grow hair like it’s nothing,” Mekhi said as he glanced over Beija’s shoulder. “So, you gonna introduce your friend?” He asked.

“Oh Lord, don’t start no mess Khi,” Alisha chuckled as Beija shook her head, walking over to Jermaine, who seemed to be a bit more reserved than usual.

“Baby, stop being nervous,” B took his hand, and he nodded as they walked over to her parents. “Guys, this is my boyfriend, Jermaine. J, this is my mother and father,” She introduced.

“How you doing,” J reached to shake both of her parents’ hands, nodding respectfully. “You have a lovely home,” He mumbled.

“Well thank you, Jermaine! It’s so nice to meet you; Beija talks about you all the time,” Alisha chuckled, making B glare at her.

“Mama,” She complained. “Quit all that, now...”

“I’m just saying, it’s nice to see you all in love,” Alisha seemed to be beaming at the thought, but Mekhi didn’t look too thrilled. “I hope you guys are hungry, though—I made some dinner and it’s in the kitchen,” She explained.

“I am kind of hungry. You wanna go eat, baby?” J looked down at Beija before she nodded, and he followed her towards the kitchen. “Yo, your pops is not feeling me at all,” He mumbled to her, and she glanced up at him with a pout.

“I know it seems that way—just give him some time, okay?” She said, and he nodded as she reached up and brushed her hand against his hair. “No worries,” She promised.

As they entered the kitchen, J began to look through the pots and pans filled with food, licking over his lips slowly. “This smells so damn good,” He sighed. “I ain’t realize how hungry I was,” He said to himself.

“You’re gonna love it. My mama really tears shit up in the kitchen,” She said as she began to make plates for the both of them.

“I can’t even believe this,” The familiar voice of her second oldest brother rang in Beija’s ears, and she chuckled as she felt him hug her side. “My little sister out here making plates. The world must be ending, Kieran teased, and she shook her head slowly.

“Hush. You said you’d never let a girl settle you down, and here you are coming up on your third wedding anniversary,” She teased.

“Uh-huh, whatever,” Kieran nodded at Jermaine before shaking his head. “What’s good, man? You not overwhelmed by all the people, huh?” He asked.

“Oh, nah! Nah, it’s all good,” J said, and Kieran nodded slowly.

“Good. Don’t be too worried about our dad or Alonzo...they kinda mean but it’s a front. Just show you a stand-up guy, and you’ll be straight,” Kieran chuckled before he nodded. “Hell, you already kinda made it. Beija don’t bring dudes home so you gotta be special,” He revealed.

“Hey, I’m honored,” J chuckled before the two shook hands again. “Alright...that’s two of three brothers who seem to fuck with me,” He said to Beija once Kieran was out of earshot. “And your mama seems hella nice too. I’m still convinced your pops hate me,” He shook his head.

“Oh hush. Daddy’s just protective, and Alonzo is pretty much his junior—they’ll be fine though, because when they see how cool you are, they’ll like you,” B leaned up and kissed his cheek before passing him his plate. “There should be drinks in the fridge, go help yourself.”

After the two ate and got comfortable, everyone sat in the living room to talk and reminisce about the past and share old stories, from how Alonzo met his wife Chantel back in high school, or the time that Marquis vomited on himself out of nerves during his first school play. But the ‘elephant’ in the room eventually had to be addressed—everyone wanted to know Jermaine and Beija’s story.

“So how did you guys meet? I remember you telling me that you were working for Dreamville back in 2014,” Naomi, Kieran’s wife, began the conversation.

“Oh, well,” Beija chuckled as she kept close to Jermaine. “I had been working there for like seven months—our cousin Natasha was cool with J’s friend Ibrahim, who hired me,” She began.

“Then we met the night of my album release for Forest Hills Drive,” Jermaine added in the details. “We just clicked. We had cool conversations and everything,” He explained.

“Aw, that’s so cool—but what happened with your wife?” Marquis’s girlfriend Trisha was a lover of gossip and drama, and it was certain that she knew and told everyone about Beija’s odd situation. “Like, how did this all come about?” She asked.

Beija rolled her eyes slightly, but listened closely to Jermaine as he spoke. “You mean, my ex-wife. But at the time, I was focused on being faithful to her. Beija has always been my friend before anything but I just...fell in love with her. So I told the truth and I ended my marriage so that I wouldn’t live a lie,” His attempt to smooth the situation over seemed to work, but only briefly—

“So what exactly is your intentions with my sister?” Alonzo was probably the most intimidating looking of the Demarco brothers. Unlike Marquis’s short dreads or Kieran’s wavy fade, the oldest brother had long dreads that nearly hung down to the middle of his back. His skin was a combination of his mother and father, making him a bit brighter than the rest of his siblings. But it was his piercing brown eyes—there were something about them that seemed to have potential to dig into anyone’s soul. “I mean, it must be serious considering she even brought you home,” He said.

“Be nice, Alonzo,” Chantel warned.

“Nah, he’s good. He’s just worried about his family,” J nodded respectfully before he sat back, wrapping an arm around Beija’s shoulders. “I have no ill intent with Beija—despite how messy things got between me and my ex-wife with everything, I love this woman right here,” He nodded his head towards B as he spoke. “Somewhere in the near future you’re gonna have a brother-in-law, and a niece or nephew for Logan to play with. That’s not even to be questioned,” B couldn’t help but to admire the confidence that Jermaine had as he spoke of her and the intentions he had for their relationship. It was oddly the most attractive thing she could witness, and it only made her even prouder to have him around.

“Hm. We’ll see,” Alonzo decided to get off of the subject, but B could see that he was unconvinced. Mekhi, on the other hand, just watched Jermaine with no words said.

After some more conversation and reminiscing, everyone retreated upstairs to prepare for bed. Beija was the last to shower, and as she entered her old bedroom she could hear Jermaine’s snickering as he laid in the bed. She realized what he was doing, and her face grew hot—he was reading her diary. “Jermaine Lamarr Cole. What the fuck?” She scolded as she shut the door behind her.

“Wait...wait,” He began to laugh. “Okay, so this must have been during college...2009 it says,” He cleared his throat. “Dear diary—my homegirl Lauren introduced me to this new artist; J. Cole,” He began to laugh as Beija sat down on the bed, crossing her arms as she huffed. “This dude is so talented. His mixtape just came out and it’s the best shit I’ve heard yet. Lights Please is everything,” He smiled as he continued to read. “Nah, nah, this my favorite part; He is so FINE. In all capital letters,” He laughed.

“I’m so glad you think this shit is funny,” Beija felt so embarrassed about him reading her old diaries; she was soon to be a college sophomore and was still going to community college in Houston when she had first heard of Jermaine, and before she knew not to be such a groupie, she was pretty much ‘in love’ with the man.

“His rhymes are out of control, and he’s just so beautiful. Pretty ass eyes and everything—we’re supposed to be seeing him in concert soon, I can’t wait to go,” He closed the diary before he laughed heartily, and Beija rolled her eyes as she rubbed her face. “This is honestly...the cutest shit I ever read. I would have never expected for you to be all googly eyed for my ass. How old were you at the time, 18?” He asked.

“19. And was such a little kid! I can’t believe I said all that,” She chuckled a little bit before she shook her head.

“Aye, but it’s kinda...cool, you know? Kind of like a self-fulfilling prophecy,” He chuckled softly to himself before he shook his head, seeing some of the doodles she made. “Mrs. Jermaine Cole. This is so fucking cute,” He snickered.

“Ugh, shut up!” She grabbed the diary and sat it on the bedside table. “You make me so...ugh,” She laughed as he pulled her on top of him, shaking her head slowly.

“I make you what, huh?” He grinned, his hands running up and down her back slowly. “Tell me,” He coaxed.

“You make me sick. I hate your guts,” She hid her face in his chest, still feeling the heat within her cheeks.

“You lying. You love me, and my fine ass,” He chuckled softly before he began to rub her back slowly. “You just like to act like you don’t,” He added.

“Yeah, yeah,” She glanced up at him as he gave her a closed smile. “I liked the way you handled yourself today. I know it’ll take some time but you fit in just fine with my family,” She said.

“It got easier as I went along—but your oldest brother tough, boy,” He shook his head slowly. “But I knew what to do, just tell the truth,” He shrugged.

“Oh? Well, I like the sound of that. But you sounded so damn smooth and confident...it was honestly the sexiest thing I have ever seen,” B felt her face blushing as she spoke.

“Oh yeah? You like when I talk my shit, huh,” His tone lowered a bit as he slightly bit into his bottom lip, and she nodded as she felt his hands slide over her behind. “I know you do, cocky ass. You like that arrogant shit,” He teased.

“Not arrogance. I just like a person that knows what they want. I love the certainty you hold...you just know what you want and you go for it. That is attractive,” She said as she gently ran her hand over his beard slowly. “And then you can back up what you say...that’s the best part.”

“Hm. I like that about you too. It’s what attracted me to you at first—you had your shit together and you made it seem effortless. But then again you just amazing,” He smiled a bit as he continued to massage her ass slowly.

“You gonna get enough of gassing me,” She mumbled as she felt herself relaxing against his body. Something about the way he kept feeling on her made her feel completely weakened.

“I’mma gas you. You mine, I can do that,” He said, and she bit her lip as she tightened her thighs against his body.

“I’m yours?” She smiled a bit as she ran her hands up his arms slowly.

“You know you are. Don’t play,” He playfully taunted before he leaned down and pecked her lips.

Beija smiled softly before she stared up at J for a moment, leaning up and kissing his cheek before she stood up to go and turn off the light before the door opened to the bedroom—it was Mekhi, dressed in his night clothes. “I’m about to go to sleep; I just wanted to say goodnight,” He said.

“Oh, okay. I was about to sleep, too; goodnight daddy,” Beija hugged him tightly before he kissed her forehead. “Love you,” She smiled.

He gave her a soft smile before he nodded. “I love you too,” He answered before he glanced over at Jermaine, staring for a moment. “Goodnight, Jermaine,” He said.

“Goodnight Mr. Demarco,” J nodded before Mekhi closed the door, and he let out a soft breath. “He gonna kill me, I know it,” He said, and Beija laughed softly as she turned off the light in her room, then quietly locked the door.

“He’s not. He’s a nice guy, just protective,” She walked over to the bed as Jermaine got out of it, and they pulled back the covers so that the two of them could get under them. Once they were able to get under them, Beija scooted close and wrapped a leg around his own as she always did. “Tomorrow will be better. Just take time to talk to him and then go from there,” She mumbled.

“Okay,” She heard him say before she leaned into his neck, slowly nuzzling her face against the warmth of his skin. “I love you, babygirl,” He mumbled.

“I love you too, baby,” She smiled softly as her hand slowly slipped past the band of his sweatpants and boxers, wrapping her hand around his dormant length before she slowly began to run her fingers along the shaft.

“Wh...what you doing?” A chuckle laced J’s question as he reached to turn on the lamp sitting on the bedside table. She chuckled softly as she continued to stroke him, feeling his muscle slowly but surely stiffen. “In your parents’ house, baby? C’mon...I’m not trying to get killed,” He mumbled, and she smiled softly before kissing the side of his lips.

“Then stay quiet. You can do that, huh?” She taunted before her lips pressed against his, softly kissing him before she pulled away from his mouth and hearing the slightly altered breathing that left him.

She couldn’t help but to smile at the way he reacted to her touch, and for a moment she felt powerful. She could still remember the night they first gave their bodies to one another, and every time she was reminded of the hold Jermaine had on her. She would never tell him how he often left her longing for him to touch her and kiss her in places she didn’t allow many to reach. He navigated her in ways that seemed like he had studied her, and at this point he was the only person that could make her fall apart at the seams when it came to sexual tension. But for once, she wanted to be the one to tear him to shreds and see what would truly make him tick. She wasn’t sure where her need for him even came from, but she knew that she would find a way to make it enjoyable for them both.

Her lips moved from his mouth down to his neck, where she reveled in his warmth, the scent of his skin nearly sending chills down her spine. Her mouth delivered soft kisses against whatever spot she could find, being careful to leave no marks behind. She could feel his throat muscles shift from him swallowing a wad of air, and she closed her eyes as she slowly lifted her body from his, moving her hand from inside of his sweats in order to lift his tank top off and over his head. She leaned down and kissed him slowly, delighted in his engagement as his hands wrapped around her waist. She moved downward and allowed her lips to explore his skin, her eyes closing blissfully as her nails slowly raked down his bare chest. She heard a small groan escape his mouth and the once tiny throbbing between her thighs seemed to evolve and becoming more profound—she wanted him so much.

“You playing a dangerous game, B,” She heard him mumble as her tongue slowly slid down his stomach, stopping just shy of his happy trail. She heard him quietly curse as his body slightly shook. “If we fuck up the sheets from you trying to be cute, you gotta take the fall,” He quietly complained. She giggled softly as she kissed along his hips until she got to her destination, slowly lowering the hem of his sweatpants.

“You won’t even give a fuck once you get into my mouth,” It was the last thing she said before she slowly pulled his length from out of his sweatpants, looking at how hard he became. Gripping near the top of him, she ran her thumb over his tip, watching the small amount of precum seep from his slit. Pulling her hand away, she took a simple suck of her thumb, her eyelids slowly lowering at the slightly sweetened flavor of the secretion. She started with familiar movements, using her hands to gently massage him as her tongue slowly swiped across the tip. She heard him breathing deeply as he tried to stay still in his spot, and it only served to motivate her to go further.

Allowing her hands to part from his girth, she placed the tip of her tongue along the right side of his tip, dragging it down and across to the left side of him, then trailing her tongue up, the complete action in the motion of an ‘8,’ before she gave him one lone suck, making sure to keep her lips tightly pressed around him to give him a tight squeeze with her mouth. She continued the motion until he was fully erect, then she wrapped her mouth around his tip. She pressed her hands against the mattress as she began to bob her head slowly, making sure to get every last inch of him into her mouth. She slowly began to rotate her head in order to fully stimulate him, a soft gag escaping her every time the tip of his tongue pressed against the back of her throat. Her saliva slowly seeped from her mouth, and she pulled away slowly, moaning gently as she rubbed her lips against the tip of him, watching his facial expressions as he danced between shock, awe and admiration.

“You’re so fucking nasty,” He mumbled as she slowly stroked him, and she licked her lips slowly before she shook her head. She slowly ran her tongue across the tip of him as she held her gaze, silently challenging him to make the next move. She was gently moved off of him, and she rolled onto her back to await his next move. She watched as he moved on top of her, slipping off her shorts and underwear before he looked down, slowly running his fingers between her folds. She smiled softly at the reaction to her already wet and warm center. He sucked her juices off of her fingers, and she watched as he aligned himself with her and slowly made his way inside.

Her walls slowly expanded to fit around him, and she let out a soft whimper—she still wasn’t quite used to him. A small moan escaped her as he began to roll his hips slowly, dragging his length in and out of her to allow her time to relax. “Shit...” She mumbled as he lifted her legs up, holding them up at her knees as he began to rock in and out of her, picking up speed once her body was completely relaxed. She looked up at his face, noting the look of concentration and passion that seemed to be written all over his face. Every part of her seemed to be touched by him and she couldn’t help but to make out quiet moans of bliss. The bed began to squeak quietly due to his force, and he stopped abruptly before he pulled out. “J, no,” She whined softly.

“On the floor,” He mumbled before he helped her onto the floor. He grabbed one of her pillows and passed it to her to allow her to have some comfort, and he moved her onto her side. He lifted one of her legs and rested it on his chest before he slipped back inside her. With nothing to give away what they were doing, he began to thrust into her with force, causing her head to bury into the pillow, letting out a series of moans and whimpers. “Mm, fuck. This what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck the shit outta you?” He taunted arrogantly, and her walls squeezed him in response. She was completely undone by the grit in his tone and the rough manner he was handling her. She knew it was payback for how she was doing him before, but she didn’t mind.

She reached for Jermaine’s hand and guided it from the leg he was holding down to her clit, pressing his fingers against the sensitive nub. She felt him begin to rub around her clit in slow and firm circles, and she gasped before she squeezed her eyes shut, her legs trembling when he invaded her deepest spot. “Don’t move, don’t move,” She mumbled before she began to slowly rotate her hips, her eyes rolling back as she felt her walls clamp down against him.  She let out a quivering breath, hearing the soft moans coming from her man as she felt her orgasm overtake her. She whimpered quietly as she felt him pull out of her, and she gasped when she felt his hand slide into her hair and pulled her from the pillow.

He pulled her over to his erect shaft, and she stared at the way it was glazed with her creamy juices. She leaned in and slowly began to suck it off, glancing up at him before their eyes met. He smirked, and she felt a sudden ache of need between her legs. She pulled back from him and licked her lips as he laid down where she previously sat. She began to straddle him, and he gripped her hip to keep her from moving. “Turn around,” He instructed, and she nodded briefly before she turned away from him, slowly mounting herself onto him. She began to swivel her hips slowly, softly moaning as she tilted her head back. She felt his hands on her hips as she continued to ride him, making sure not to move too swiftly. She wanted to be able to feel him completely, and because she was in a positon of temporary power, she wanted to stretch the opportunity out. “Gotdamn it, Beija,” She heard him mumble, and she continued to rock and roll her hips, enjoying the feeling of him being inside her.

She felt one of his hands slip up her hips and under her shirt, pulling her back slowly until her back was against his chest. She slowly moved her legs to that they were in a similar laying position, and she watched as Jermaine lifted his legs up to where his knees were bent. Lifting up his pelvis, he began to rock up inside her, forcing her to open up a bit as he caught her in a brand new position. She let out a soft whimper as he began to thrust up into her roughly, and sighed as one of his hands took grip of her breast, holding it tightly as he stroked into her with what strength he had, the other hand wrapping around her neck tightly as he continued his assault on her insides. “Hard...er...” She could barely get the words out, and eventually she felt his hand slide up her neck until his index and middle fingers were jammed into her mouth to keep her from making too much noise.

His lips pressed against the side of her face as he continued to jam himself within the tightness of her canal, and she closed her eyes at the sounds of his soft groans. She couldn’t think straight—everything about him in the moment was feeding into her desire, and though she didn’t want to admit it, she was in love with the way he controlled her in bed. His tongue softly glided against the side of her face and a small giggle escaped her mouth even as he continued to rock into her. His other hand moved from her breast down towards her clit, rubbing it quickly to coincide with his fearsome and deep strokes. Another muffled whine escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, shuddering as she could hear his ragged breath in her ear. But suddenly, she was guided off of him and pulled up towards his face, her new seat quickly becoming his mouth. His tongue hungrily lapped at the sweetness that dripped from her sensitive middle, and she covered her mouth to keep from screaming as her hips began to swivel against his mouth. She shuddered as she felt his tongue invade her, and she began to ride his tongue slowly as she reached back and slid her hand into his dreads, holding them tightly as continued to ride his face with ease.

But the moment of rest was fleeting, and as quick as she felt she was on his face, she was moved back towards his throbbing rod, and he was back to pounding within her, relentless within his actions as he held her down to prevent any movement. She trembled as she let out another soft whine, squeezing her eyes shut as he grabbed her by the hair and forced her mouth to his. The kiss was passionate and raunchy, their tongues slowly swirling in the midst of her remaining essence as he continued to guide himself in and out of her, not letting up even as her walls began to start with its own acute spasms. “I... J, I can’t...” She gasped as she felt a sudden fullness that needed to be released. The overlapping sensations became too much to bear, and her body went rigid as she felt her orgasm rip through her body, her juices squirting out of her and forcing her lover to pull out. She quivered heavily as she bit her lip, her juices spilling out onto the wooden floor below them. She took a staggered breath as she was slowly pulled off of him, biting her lip at the feeling of emptiness that remained.

She moved long enough for him to stand to his feet, and she was pulled up with him until he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her off of the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and he slowly walked to the wall, placing her against it before he slid back inside her, slowly bending his knees as he rocked himself in and out of her. His hands planted against the wall as he leaned in, placing soft yet sloppy kisses against her mouth, grunting softly as he began to slowly gain speed inside of her. She let out a small moan as she tried her best not to make any noise, but with the way he was angling himself inside her, the collision of their bodies was inevitable. He groaned softly as his hands moved to hers, moving them to hang over her head as he pressed his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes as he continued his work.

“J... daddy, please,” The words slipped past her lips with ease, and her face flushed as she closed her eyes, hissing lowly as she continued to feel him. She trembled as she struggled to keep herself up against the wall, letting out a soft whine as she felt her eyes begin to water at the endless combination of pleasure and welcomed pain.

“What?” His voice was so roughened by his heightened libido that it came out as a growl, and her body trembled in response. “Please what?” He asked, and she found herself unable to answer. He pulled himself out of her before peeling her from the wall, and he bent her over the side of the bed. “I’mma give your ass something to beg for. Ass up,” He smacked her ass cheek roughly, and she whimpered as she placed an arch in her back, pushing herself up into the position he wanted her in. She laid her head against the bed as she felt him grip her wrists, pulling them behind her back before she felt him invade her again. She cooed softly as she closed her eyes, slowly winding her hips against him as he guided himself in and out of her. “Just like that, baby. Fuck me back,” He quietly instructed.

The feeling was addicting. Even with her body being exhausted already from the rigorous activity she found herself wanting more and more of him. She could still feel the imprint of every touch he made against her skin, and she was nearly haunted by her own need for him. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt some tears sneak out of her eyes, slightly clenching her jaw as she tried her hardest not to speak too loudly. “Jer...maine...” She struggled to speak, whimpering as she felt his tongue slither up her spine until his body was completely on top of hers once again. He pressed his body down so hard against her that it was impossible for her to move, and his hands moved to her shoulders, holding them tightly as he began to buck into her with as much speed and force that he could muster. Her body continued to jerk from under him, and she let out a soft sob, her words completely leaving her conscious thought. A feeling like this didn’t have words to accompany it.

“Cum one more time for me,” He panted into her ear, and she could feel him twitching intensely from within her. “Cum with daddy,” He begged, and she nodded quickly as she felt him bury himself deep inside her, not moving anymore as she felt him tensing up. She continued to rock her hips, squeezing her walls around him to further coax him to orgasm, and her eyes rolled back as she closed her eyes, the sudden and bursting warmth of his orgasm filling her up gradually. Her orgasm came shortly after, and she let out a quiet squeal before she blinked away the unshed tears that threatened to fall. She opened her eyes fully to try to focus her vision, and she felt him pull out of her but not move from his spot behind her. Feeling his lips against her shoulder, she blushed softly at his sudden gentleness that followed the storm he had brought upon her. He eventually pulled away before he attempted to clean himself up, and she stood up to her feet, slowly walking over towards her shorts which were discarded in the corner of the room.

Her thighs were burning and the throbbing between her legs were now out of exhaustion instead of need—despite how tired she felt, she seemed to be glowing as she slipped her shorts back on, and went out into the hallway to retrieve three bath towels from the linen closet. She returned to the room, and began to clean up the mess she made on the floor. She passed one of the towels to Jermaine for him to clean himself, and she did the same for herself with the last towel. They fully redressed and returned to the bed, and she scooted close to his body once again.

“You feel better now?” He asked, and she nodded briefly before she laid her head on his chest. Soon, the lamp was turned off and they were back in the darkness. Sleep took very little time to overtake her, her exhaustion and his body heat just enough to sedate her.

[diarynz]

Rugby Championship: World Cup in doubt? Injury blow for All Blacks lock Brodie Retallick

New Post has been published on https://diary.nz/rugby-championship-world-cup-in-doubt-injury-blow-for-all-blacks-lock-brodie-retallick/

Rugby Championship: World Cup in doubt? Injury blow for All Blacks lock Brodie Retallick

All Blacks lock Brodie Retallick has suffered a dislocated shoulder and the coaches will wait on a diagnosis that could include the added complication of a fracture.

Retallick was taken to hospital after hurting his shoulder in the 60th minute during the dramatic 16-all draw against the Springboks at Westpac Stadium following what appeared to be an illegal ruck cleanout by a Springboks player but which wasn’t ruled as such by referee Nic Berry.

If the injury is merely a dislocation, Retallick may still be a chance for the World Cup which starts for his side on September 21 with another match against the Boks, who snuck home to share the spoils. A fracture as well would surely rule him out for the rest of the year.

“He’s dislocated his shoulder,” coach Steve Hansen confirmed. “Whether he’s fractured it as well, we don’t know. We just have to sit and wait.”

It will be a nervous wait because Retallick is a key member of the All Black pack. With Scott Barrett recovering from a broken hand, Sam Whitelock is likely to be joined by Jackson Hemopo in the second row in the first Bledisloe Cup test against the Wallabies in Perth on August 11.

Retallick’s injury added a further sombre note to a disappointing evening for the All Blacks, who struggled initially against the Boks and took a slim halftime lead thanks to Jack Goodhue’s try and who appeared in control until Herschel Jantjies’ converted try in the final seconds.

The draw comes after last year’s upset victory by the Boks, who will be buoyed significantly by this result ahead of the rematch in Yokohama.

Kieran Read and Steve Hansen look on after the final whistle. Photo / Getty

But rather than being too downbeat, Hansen was relatively happy by the performance of his side, albeit not with the numerous handling errors. The Richie Mo’unga-Beauden Barrett selection finished as a success after some early uncertainty, Goodhue was excellent, and there were some good contributions by the replacements.

“I didn’t find it a tough watch,” Hansen said. “It was a test match. Obviously the last couple of seconds were a bit tough to watch but we’ve done that to plenty of sides before and you’ve got to take your own medicine and move on.

“We’ve chosen over the last couple of weeks to name two different sides. We haven’t had much preparation time. We knew due to some of the stuff we were introducing we would be a little off. But there were enough signs there to suggest if we keep working away and get our timing better and get our execution better we will be able to hurt some teams.

“We’re not going to panic. We’re going to take a deep breath and keep moving.

“We’re reasonably happy; not so much with the performance, but with what we’re seeing and how far we can go.”

Skipper Kieran Read admitted to his side feeling “down” in the sheds. While the All Blacks dodged a bullet in Buenos Aires against the Pumas last weekend, they let it slip this time.

Asked about the Mo’unga/Barrett performance, assistant coach Ian Foster said: “Pretty good. There were some nice signs there. I think in the first 40 it looked like Argentina all over again – players weren’t instincitively getting into the shape that we wanted them, or making the right decisions, but after a while I thought there were nice patches in the third and fourth quarter when Richie and Beaudy got a few things organised. It’s a work in progress.

“We were lucky at the end there, just like last year,” Boks coach Rassie Erasmus said.

“To come away with the draw, we satisfied with that.”

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