#if anyone has any tips for dealing with the death of a parent with whom you had a distant relationship please let me know

[uaklauslovesdave]

I debated with myself about whether or not I wanted to write this. I’m not very good at sharing about myself with other people, not about things that matter. But I decided that I wanted to do it. To share my grief with strangers on the internet. It’s not much, but it’s something.

My father died last Tuesday. It was unexpected. He was 59. He died in the garage. He was alone. When my mother found him he was already dead.

She called me that afternoon. I missed her call because I was talking to my psychiatrist. I called her back and was greeted by her sobbing. He’s gone, she said.

I felt numb. I felt disconnected. I left work in a daze. I drove home in a daze. I stuffed a bag with dirty clothes because I hadn’t done laundry in weeks. I drove for hours to the house where I grew up. I hadn’t been there since last year.

I tried to remember the last time I spoke with my father. I couldn’t remember. I tried to remember the last time I saw my father. It was at my grandfather’s funeral. I hadn’t known then that the next time I saw him it would be at his funeral. That he would be dead.

I spent the next week in my childhood home, with my mother and my two brothers. I hadn’t spent that much time in that house in nearly a decade. I slept in my childhood bedroom on a twin bed. I painted the walls of that room red when I was 18. My father helped.

The first night I could hear my younger brother yelling for our father through our shared wall. I didn’t want our older brother or mother to hear him. They would be upset. I went into his room, layed next to him in his bed for hours. Tried to think of a way to explain to him that our father is dead and that means he won’t be coming back. My younger brother is 24. He is autistic. He has a cognitive disability. I struggled to explain death in a concrete way. I don’t believe in God and I don’t believe in the afterlife but I told my brother our father went to heaven. He asked me what is heaven and he asked me where is heaven. I didn’t know how to explain it. I asked him if he wanted to Google it. He did. That helped.

My father’s funeral was on Monday. When I saw his body lying in the rented casket I thought that he didn’t look like I remembered. The last time I saw him he was alive. Now his skin was waxy and his mouth and eyes were sewn shut. Now his body was cold and stiff like concrete.

My father and I had a complicated relationship. We were very different people. I looked at his body and I thought I’m sorry we never knew how to properly love each other. I spent the last decade distancing myself from him and the rest of my family. It was what I needed. He didn’t really know me in the end. Some small hopeful part of me wondered if maybe one day we could reconcile. Maybe one day I would feel safe enough to tell him everything. It never happened. It never will now.

[queenshelby]

THE ARRANGEMENT – SEALING THE DEAL

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 3522

Warning: Sugar Daddy, Submission, Smut, BDSM

Notes: I will use this headline to write more smutty encounters between Tommy and the Reader. But they will get a bit heavier in the BDSM department. So if this is not your thing, don’t keep reading.

Requested: Yes

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal  @chrisevanshoeee  @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse  @captivatedbycillianmurphy  @fookingshelby  @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  

………

The Proposal

Today marks the day you’ve been working for at the Garrison exactly one year. A job you found by sheer accident when you moved to Birmingham.

You had no money when you fled Northern Ireland and were in need of employment. Your parents were involved with the IRA and with a well-known surname like yours, it was difficult for you to find employment.

You always tried hard to disassociate yourself from your parents with whom you did not agree on political matters. They were terrorists and you stood elsewhere on the Irish question.

When you arrived in Birmingham, you were offered a job at the local whorehouse. You declined. The last thing you wanted was to lose your virginity to some filthy married patron who paid you as little as 2 shillings for your services.

When you saw a job advertised in the paper at the local pub, you applied. This is when you met Grace Shelby who hired you.

Grace was there by sheer accident herself, arranging the new fit-out for the pub. She was Thomas Shelby’s wife and no longer worked herself.

She was a kind hearted woman and had been in your shoes many years ago. No one other than Grace believed that you would last in a job like this. But here you were, still working behind the bar and serving alcohol to drunk men.

To your disappointment, Grace had passed away six months ago and your husband Tommy has never been the same since.

For the first four months following her death, he got himself and his family into lot of trouble. The majority of his family members were serving prison time for a robbery. But not Tommy. He was working on their release while continuing to build his family’s wealth.

Ever since their arrest, he attended the Garrison frequently, most often late at night after he had visited one of the up market brothels owned by him.

Of course, he didn’t tell you that, but it was obvious to you. It was his way of coping with life and to stay focused.

You talked a lot. He would often be the last patron at the Garrison and ask you to drink with him. You didn’t drink much, but would allow yourself a glass of whiskey on occasion.

Tonight, was one of these nights where Tommy and you were alone, just talking and drinking.

He walked into the Garrison at 11 o’clock, greeted you and ordered a whiskey.

‘You are early tonight Mr Shelby’ you said.

‘Well, Y/N, things have not been going my way today’ he responded.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ you asked.

‘I rather not’ he responded.

‘Alright, no talking then’ you said with a smile.

‘Do you have a man in your life Y/N?’ he then asked all of a sudden. His question took you by surprise.

‘I do not. Never had. Why are you asking?’ you wondered.

‘No reason. Just curious why a woman like you works in a place like this’ he said bluntly.

‘It pays well, I get good tips. I had a job offer from one of the mistresses at one of your brothels. I declined. I rather serve 50 drunk men a night than fuck ten of them’ you laughed.

‘This seems like a reasonable choice’ Tommy chuckled.

‘So, you ever get bored of them? Knowing that sex is no more than a transaction to them and you are no more than a client must be frustrating’ you asked.

‘How much whiskey did you have to drink tonight Y/N, eh?’ Tommy asked sheepishly, being surprised by the directness of your question.

‘More than a little. It’s my birthday’ you laughed.

‘That’s what I thought. Happy Birthday Y/N’ Tommy said.

‘Thank you, Mr Shelby, but you didn’t answer my question’ you smirked.

‘The good thing about prostitutes is that they do exactly what you pay them to do. They fuck. They don’t expect feelings from you, just money. You are right, it is a simple transaction’ Tommy said.

‘Sounds boring and repetitive. Wouldn’t you rather have someone consistent? The same skilled woman every time, someone who gets to learn exactly how to please you, always around right at your disposal and with no strings attached?’ you asked.

‘I’ve read that, in France, rich businessmen and politicians keep themselves mistresses rather than going to brothels. It’s discrete and it’s safe. The men provide their mistresses with accommodation and visit them for sex whenever they please’ you added.

‘A mistress, eh?’ Where do you think I would find such a woman Y/N? Tommy joked.

‘Well Mr Shelby, I know of someone who would be very interested to come to some sort of arrangement’ you smirked.

‘You realise that I am about twice your age?’ Tommy asked sheepishly, knowing exactly that you were talking about yourself becoming his mistress.

‘I do and this makes it even more interesting’ you suggested.

‘You are quite young Y/N. How many men have you been with?’ Tommy asked

‘None’ you said, causing Tommy to choke on his whiskey.

‘No’ he said firmly. ‘I don’t do virgins Y/N. It’s not my thing’ Tommy added.

‘Think about it, I am like a clean canvas. You can teach me exactly how you want to be pleased’ you smirked.

‘You are clearly drunk Y/N. I shall drive you home’ Tommy said.

And so he did. After you closed up the pub, he drove you to your apartment which was located in one of the worst areas of Birmingham.

As he drove you home, you brought up your proposal again and Tommy appeared more open to consider it at this point. But not tonight, not with you having been influenced by alcohol.

You were an attractive woman, clean and easy to talk to. You worked in the Garrison for a year and he knew you would be discrete and he could trust you.

‘Come to my office tomorrow at noon if you decide that this is what you want and then we talk, eh’ Tommy said as he pulled up in front of your apartment.

You nodded before saying goodnight to him.

The Arrangement

The next day, you attended Tommy’s office as instructed.

‘Y/N, I am surprised to see you’ Tommy smirked as you walked inside his office.

‘You thought I wasn’t serious, didn’t you?’ you smirked as you sat down in front of his desk.

‘Let’s just say, you surprised me’ he said with a grin.

Tommy then went on to ask you what you expect from your arrangement if he was going ahead and agree with it.

You didn’t have many demands other than being looked after financially.

Tommy then advised you that you might change your mind if you know what his desires were.

Thomas Shelby was no ordinary man and he didn’t enjoy ordinary sex, which is one of the reasons he was getting bored with the prostitutes.

He was looking for what some might call a submissive. He enjoyed authority, even in the bedroom.

He wanted to be in charge, always.

With that in mind, you agreed. You were ready to be his and sealed the deal with a passionate kiss.

‘Alright, it’s a deal Y/N. But, to ensure that you understand, you belong to me. You are my property and you are not to fuck anyone else, understood?’ Tommy said as he pulled his lips away from yours, his hand holding onto your hair tightly.

‘Yes Mr Shelby’ you said, biting your lip.

‘You will be available when I need you to be available and you will submit. Is that understood?’ Tommy then said.

‘Yes Mr Shelby’ you answered before his lips met yours again in a hasty kiss.

‘Good. Now, since you are a virgin, the first time, I will take it easy on you’ Tommy said as he kissed your neck, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume.

‘Here are the keys to your apartment. 15 Watery Lane. I will visit you tonight at 8 o’clock and this is what I expect you to wear. Nothing else’ Tommy said as he handed you a small bag.

‘Before I come over, I want you to think of a safe word which you can use at any time’ he added, causing you to nod. He had explained the premise of a safe word to you earlier when you discussed what he would expect from you.

Sealing the Deal

Later that evening, after you settled into your new apartment, you were waiting for Tommy in nothing but the black lace panties he gave you.

He was right on time, letting himself into your apartment at 8 o’clock.

‘Do you like what you see Mr Shelby?’ you asked as he walked through the door.

‘I do, very much so’ Tommy said before he kissed you and ran his hands over your breasts and down to your stomach, making you moan.

He continued the gentle gestures for approximately five minutes, kissing you gently and exploring every inch of your body.

‘What have you decided on for a safe word Y/N?’ Tommy asked after he broke the last kiss.

‘Red’ you said.

‘Red. Very well.’ Tommy said before taking off his jacket, waistcoat and gun holster and placing them all onto one of the armchairs.

He then walked back over to you and gave you one more quick kiss.

‘Now be a good girl and get on your knees. And Y/N... eye contact. I want you looking at me’ Tommy said as he pulled your hair downward to bring you to kneel in front of him.

He kept his hand wrapped in your hair behind your head but clutched onto your skull tightly. You were about to be Tommy’s, in complete submission.

With his other hand he unzipped his pants and slowly pulled out his impressive length. You gasped. This is the first time you saw a man’s most intimate parts right in front of you.

‘Open your mouth’ Tommy instructed as you looked up into his blue eyes.

You obliged and Tommy pulled your head forward and forced your lips around the head of his erect cock.

Your hands shot up to his thighs to try to hold him back but he charged forward, making you take the first few inches of his length into your mouth.

You closed your eyes, trying instantly to focus and control your gag reflexes. There you thought that he was going to take it easy on you. If this was him taking it easy, what would he otherwise be like you wondered.

‘Look at me’ he instructed as he began to notice your eyes fall close.

Your lips were completely stretched around the girth of his shaft as he pushed his cock deeper into your mouth.

Your ravishing eyes opened and looked up at him, his face full of want and desire for you.

As you looked at him you started growing more comfortable as the minutes passed.

You relaxed your grip on his legs and began opening your throat a little for his intrusion.

You kept eye contact whenever you weren’t suppressing a gag reflex. Your mouth soon began to move with his rhythm while your tongue was stimulating him.  

After about five minutes Tommy released his hold on your hair and reached down to your breasts, playing with your already hard nipples. You moaned around his cook as he stimulated your breasts and the wetness began to grow in between your legs.

You bopped your head up and down his length, trying to take as much of it into your mouth as you could.

Your hands soon joined your mouth, and stimulated the end of his shaft which didn’t make into your mouth.

‘Is this what you wanted, Mr Shelby?’ you asked.

Tommy nodded politely in between moans, running his fingers through your hair again.

He pushed you down on his cock a few more times, making you take him deeper than before, while he looked down, admiring the view.

‘Good girl, that’s it, take it all in’ he groaned as he guided your head.

You struggled, finding it difficult to breath, but you obliged.

The sight of you taking him like this drove him crazy and, after several more strokes, he pulled your head back up and, without warning, re-entered your mouth with vigor and dominance.

You squirmed below him and your hands moved back to his upper thighs, attempting to press him back.

But Tommy had other ideas and swatted your hands away from his legs.

‘Cross your wrists behind your back Y/N’ Tommy ordered.

‘Tommy’ you pleaded.

‘I make the rules Y/N. You don't get to resist. If you want me to stop, use your safe word’ he said.

With reluctance, you placed your wrists behind your back. Some twisted part within yourself enjoyed this, him taking you like this. In your mind, you were nowhere near at your limits.

Just like this, Tommy took hold of your hair again and thrusted forward into your open mouth, deeper and deeper until he bottomed out in your throat.

You could no longer retain eye contact and he didn’t seem to care as he continued to thrust into your mouth a few more times until he decided to relent.

He soon released the grip on your hair and made you look up at him.

‘Come up, you’ve done well’ he said as he pulled you up towards him and pulled you in for a kiss.

His hands moved in between your legs.

‘So fucking wet eh’ he said as he ran his hand over your soaked panties.

‘Take them off’ he instructed and you didn’t resist and pulled them off in a haste.

‘Now Love, I think it’s time for us to sort out this little issue for yours, eh?’ Tommy said with a smirk.

‘Yes Mr Shelby’ you said nervously, knowing that he was about to take your virginity.

While you always thought about this moment to be romantic, you were at the point where you just wanted it to be over with. You were soaking for him and you wanted him to fuck you just the way he wanted. You wanted to be taken by him, right then and there, regardless of the pain.

‘Shall we go to the bedroom?’ you asked.

‘No Love, right here will do just fine’ Tommy said as he turned your ass on to the edge of the kitchen room table, and gently pushed your back down on to it.

His eyes gazed over your perfect body, taking in the view of your breasts and your soaking wet mound.

‘Open your legs’ he instructed just as he lowered himself in between them.

You weren’t sure what he was doing and watched him nervously as, all of a sudden, he dipped his tongue into your wet slit.

You squealed in surprise, but it was already too late to plead for him not to, his tongue was already murdering your senses.

He sucked and licked over your clit just as you could feel two fingers enter you.

You expected pain, but it was nothing but please when he began to slowly thrust them in and of you.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as Tommy worked his magic on you.

You weren’t sure why he was doing this. Wasn’t it all about his pleasure and his pleasure alone? But, when you looked at him, he seemed to be enjoying this. You squirmed helplessly beneath him.

As he circled his tongue over your clit over and over again and carefully pushed two of his fingers in and out of you, you could feel an unfamiliar sensation build up in your stomach.

Soon you we trembling to your own unbidden orgasm. You were already aroused beyond your own redemption.

The intensity or your climax was so all encompassing, that your muscles from your stomach to your knees, spasmed and contracted. Your legs slammed together trapping Tommy’s head in a wrestlers type grip, and his eyes bulged until you relaxed a little.

As your orgasm washed over you, you could feel Tommy grin against your mound.

‘I think you are ready to take my cock now Love’ he said after you came down from your high and he positioned himself in between your spread legs.

Within seconds, Tommy hooked his hands under your calves and lifted them to rest on his shoulders. Now he was ready, you were flat out on your new kitchen room table, and in no position to refuse him.

He held your knees apart. and maneuvered his cock to your bright wet slit. He rubbed it up and down a couple of times before commencing his intrusion.

‘Don’t worry Love, I will be gentle since it’s your first time’ Tommy said as he pressed forward slightly and pushed his cock into your small, warm, and unbelievably tight pussy.

Despite his best efforts, you moaned and screamed at the same time at the intrusion but there was nothing you could do, not now.

‘You can take it Love. I know you can. If you want me stop, use your safe word’ Tommy said as he pushed into you further.

You moaned loudly has his length invaded you and pushed past your barrier, causing you to let out another moan and scream until, finally, he was completely inside of you. Tommy had just about split you in two and you had never felt like this before, you were full and he could feel your body trying to get out of the way

Tommy let you adjust to his size and then began pulling on your hips, before thrusting into you gently.

‘God you are so fucking tight Y/N’ he moaned as, slowly, you began to relax completely.

After several gentle thrusts to, Tommy pressed your knees back together and then he pulled out and rammed it back in again.

You cried out once more, but this time not in pain but, instead, in pure pleasure. You felt him running up and down your love channel and it felt better than anything else you had experienced before. There had been no event in your life that could have prepared you for this.

‘Oh my god Tommy, please make me cum again’ you begged him.

Tommy grinned and didn’t care to correct you on your language.

He began to fuck you mercilessly and rode you past your pain into a world of pleasure.

The unassailable flush of desire and the insane delight of him being inside of you overcame everything you were, or ever had been. As he thrusted in and you over and over again, harder with each stroke, you got lost in the grip of irrepressible lust, a powerful inarticulate lust.

It wasn’t long until he fucked you just the way he wanted, hard and fast. You were ready for it and you took it, every single bit of it.

And, just like that, you could feel another even more intense orgasm wash over you.

‘Good girl, cum around my cock’ he moaned as he picked up his speed and pounded into you.

With one loud moan, your walls contracted and your quivered beneath him. You were a shaking mess and screamed his name as you rode out your orgasm.

Just as you came down from your high, he pulled out of you. He was not done with you yet.

Without letting you recover, he pushed you back onto your knees in front of him.

‘You know what to do’ he said just as he pushed his cock back into your mouth firmly while grabbing onto your hair.

This time, he held your head in place while he began thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth.

Your eyes shut again instantly and unintentionally in order to deal with the gag reflex.

‘Look at me’ he instructed and you obliged, opening your eyes and looking towards his face.

‘I'm going to cum in your mouth’ he said, causing you to nod.

‘I hope this was understood, but I expect you to swallow’ he added and, just like this, with several more thrusts, his warm cum spurted into the back of your throat.

You gagged again, trying hard to allow his warm seed to run down your throat as he thrusted into you until, finally, he came to a hold.

You licked the last of his cum from his hard cock, making sure to swallow every single drop.

‘You did well Y/N’ Tommy said with still laboured breathing.

‘Thank you, Mr Shelby’ you said as you stood up and had a drink from his glass of whiskey.

‘I will see you on Friday, same time’ Tommy said as he zipped up his pants and buckled up his belt.

‘Friday it is’ you grinned with excitement before he gave you a passionate kiss.

‘We will try something new then and I won’t be as gentle with you then’ he said.

‘I am looking forward to it’ you winked as you said goodbye to him.

[spidernerdsblog]

Match made in Hell : Chapter Thirteen

A/N : And this is it the last and final chapter. Kinda sad but mostly happy to finally finish this series. Hope you like this chapter. Let me know what you think.

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary : you always wanted a simple life but to be born as the daughter of a dangerous mobster turned out to be a curse for you. Everything changes when your father gets your lover killed and forcefully marries you off to another mobster as a part of a deal. You hate your father and your husband the only thing you seek is now revenge. Will you ever be able to fall in love again or this burning hatred inside you will consume you?

Warnings : mature content, kidnapping, blood, violence, murder, death, language

SERIES MASTERLIST

“What? How?” you looked at him with a worrisome face.

“We don’t know yet but we are gonna catch him don’t worry” his hands come up to your shoulders in assurance.

“Then we must go now he might be planning something dangerous to take revenge on us” saying so you were about to rush back to your room to get dressed but Tom caught hold of your hand.

“Y/N stop, you can’t go” 

“Why? You only said we need to catch him” you look at him questioningly.

“By we I meant me and the boys. You are not going anywhere, not in this condition” he speaks softly placing a hand gently over your stomach “you remember what Dr. Martin said, right? No stress and as much rest as possible”

“But-but you don’t understand Tom I can help and I was pregnant the last time we caught him” you argue as Tom reaches his hand out to cup your face with an understanding smile.

“I know love but we weren’t aware of it at that time and I'm thankful that he didn’t do anything bad but not anymore" he caressed your cheek with his thumb "I’m not letting either of you come in harm's way” you were about to say something but he cut you off “please Y/N for this time just let me handle this. I know you’re strong and the most fearless woman I have ever met in my life but for this time for their sake at least stay back” 

You finally gave up hanging your head low with a sigh. He was right with your current situation; it wasn't a wise idea. The risk would be too much and you can’t afford it, not when it’s about the safety of the little ones growing inside you.

“Okay but promise me you’ll be careful and in no circumstance you will risk your life” you place your hand over his on your stomach “we will be waiting for you”

“I promise I’ll be safe” he presses a soft kiss on your forehead “you just take care of yourself. I have told the guards everything and Leslie will also be there” he gives a one last peck on your lips before parting “I’ll be back in no time I promise” he reassures smiling as you nod mirroring his smile.

****

Tom along with with his brothers and Harrison were at their office in Westminster discussing their next move to get hold of Ethan before he makes a move against them.

“Any news?” Tom asks Harrison. 

“Nothing,” he answers with disappointment.

“We searched downtown but found no trace of him,” Harry informs, exchanging glances with Sam.

“How is this even possible? A man escaped but is nowhere to be found?!” Tom groans in  frustration when they are interrupted by William whom Vanessa brought along with her in case he might be able to help track down Ethan with his years of experience with your father's mob.

“Only if the man has never left the place” he elucidates.

“What?” Tom’s brows knit in a frown.

“Has anyone seen him getting out of the house?” William throws the question to his men as they stood there silently with their gazes lowered down at the floor. 

“Answer the question you morons!” Tom barks at them.

“No sir” one of them squeaks out in response as the frown on Tom’s face grows deeper.

“Well then you have your answer Ethan is still in your house hiding maybe seeking for the right opportunity” William remarks.

“Right opportunity for what?” Vanessa questions.

“Y/N..” Tom’s voice comes out shaky as panic washes over his face at the realization “Y/N is all alone in the house. We need to go now!” 

****

You were in your room trying to keep yourself occupied by reading some books on parenting and childbirth to calm your nerves which honestly wasn’t helping much cause you knew how dangerous it is with Ethan escaping and the vipers seeking revenge. Since no one would be informing you about anything you thought it’s best, you take a nap as stressing about it will be useless and in turn be bad for the two little beans inside you. 

You were about to lie down when you heard shuffling noises outside of your room. Your hand instantly reached out to your bedside table, opening the drawer you took out your gun and got off the bed. You carefully tip-toed out of your room, eyes scanning the corridors when you felt someone’s presence behind you. You cocked your gun ready to turn and shoot. 

“I wouldn’t dare to do that” you heard, feeling the muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of your head. 

“Ethan?” you frowned deeply.

“Miss me baby?” his voice dark and full of malice. You went to shove him in the stomach with your elbow but he was quick to catch hold of your hand and twist it back as the gun fell from your grasp on the floor.

“You’re getting clumsy sweetheart” he chuckles tauntingly.

“What do you want?!” you hissed struggling to set free.

“You’ll get to know soon but for now start walking”

“What makes you think I’ll listen to whatever you say?” you grit under your teeth. 

“Well honey news is in the air that you're pretty knocked up right now" he snickers and your throat went dry, he knows "so if you don't do what I say I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to pull the trigger” 

Usually you were tough and it takes a lot to shake you but now it is different. You couldn’t think of fighting back as fear grasped on to your mind and body. You weren’t alone, you had two lives growing inside you and in no way you were going to put their lives in danger so you remained quiet and decided to do exactly what you were told. You slowly walked down the stairs with Ethan behind you holding you by your arm with one hand the other had his gun pointed at the back of your head when Leslie walked out of the kitchen.

“Ma’am!” she gasped in horror and immediately pressed the alarm on the nearby wall to alert the guards outside as she rushed towards you in an attempt to save you.

“Get back or she dies” Ethan threatens, pressing the gun further to your head.

“It’s ok Les just stay where you are” you say calmly. Two of Tom’s men posted at the gate barged in pointing their guns.

“Put down your gun now or you’ll regret it” they threaten, cocking their guns which made Ethan chuckle darkly.

“You really thought I would be so stupid to do this all alone” he snickers when three men dressed in all black rounded them from behind. They pulled out their guns and within seconds several gunshots were fired piercing through their bodies as both of the guards dropped dead.

“Leslie run!” you shout at her. 

“But…” she hesitates.

“Just go or they will kill you!” you tell her as she unwillingly ran to the back of the mansion to get out of the place.

“Yes, run to your boss and tell him that I got his most prized possession and soon I’ll have this whole city within my palms too” he grins wickedly. He then drags you out of the front door to the driveway where two SUV’s were parked.

“C'mon get inside the car” he nudged you as you reluctantly got in the passenger seat while he sat on the driver's seat and starts the car.

“Ethan you don’t wanna do this” you tried to talk some sense into him.

“Oh hell I wanna do it. Today I take back what is rightfully mine. Now shut the fuck up!” he yelled at you while driving and you flinched feeling utterly helpless.

“Tom is on his way he is gonna kill you and if my dad comes to know” you glared at him.

“I don’t care what that bastard wants, he has been using me to take hold of the drug cartel but I was the one who was using him to set up my own gang to take my sweet revenge. Your daddy thinks he owns the vipers, no honey, it's me who gives them the orders” he laughs when his eyes go to the phone in your hands “give me your phone” he orders.

“Why?” you tried to hide it away from him

“Just give it to me dammit!” he snatched it out of your hand and threw it out of the window on the side of the road “now no one will know where you are” he chuckles darkly speeding away through the traffic.

****

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are you?!” Tom stormed inside the house to be met with the two dead bodies of his men in a pool of blood.

“Oh God!” V gasped in horror and the boys were left dumbfounded at the scene in front of them..

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Tom called out again desperately.

“Sir!” a very terrified Leslie came running from the back of the house.

“Leslie, where is Y/N? Answer me!” he demanded.

“They took her sir” she broke down into tears as Tom felt the ground slipping from under his feet. 

“Uggh this is all my fault!” he knocks off the glass sculpture kept on the nearby table out of rage.

“Tom, calm down, get yourself together!” Harrison stops him from breaking any other things further.

“How can I stay calm Harrison?! That bastard took her and I wasn’t even there to save her. Now I don’t know where she is or even if she is alive or not” he laments.

“You need to think clearly, Tom. He won’t do anything to her I’m sure not until he gets what he wants” William remarks and just then Tom’s phone rang with an unknown caller id

“Take it I’m sure it’s him” William advised he pressed the call button as Ethan’s face became visible on the scream. 

“Hey Tom, what’s up man?” he says with a smug grin.

“You scum, where is Y/N?! If you lay a finger on her you’re gonna die a very brutal death!” Tom barked.

“Oh don’t worry, she's alright. For now. Say hi to your husband honey” he mocks flipping the camera towards you. Tom’s heart clenched seeing you tied up to a chair. You looked completely exhausted as you somehow lifted your face up to face the camera.

“Y/N…” he croaks a lump growing inside his throat as he fights back his tears after seeing you being treated like this when you should in the comfort of your home. 

“Tom-Tom, don’t agree to what he says it’s a tra-” you tried to warn him but were quickly cut off.

“Okay that’s enough sweetheart”

“Give me my Y/N back!” Tom growled in rage.

“Woah not so fast not until you give me what I want” he remarks with a smug grin.

“What the hell do you want?!”

“Nothing much, just hand over your mob and accept my allegiance only then you'll get your wife back. I’m giving you 12 hours to think Tom after that I’ll empty this gun into her head” he threatens and the call disconnects.

“Hey wait!” Tom yells at the dark screen.

“Let’s go! We don’t have much time” Tom was about to rush out when Harry stopped him

“Wait Tom, are you seriously going to hand over everything?”

“I'm ready to give up everything for Y/N. I don't give a fuck about the mob because that’s the reason behind Y/N, my wife, the mother of children is being held captive in the first place!” he snaps.

“Don’t do anything in a rush you don’t want to strengthen your enemy’s power do you?” William remarks..

“Yes Tom, I agree with William too. You do remember what the Coopers did back then before your dad had to kill them himself?” Harrison reminded him.

“Yes I do but what option do we have?” Tom sighed unable to find a way out

“You have an option” V speaks up

“What?” 

“Ask papa for help” she suggests

“Are you out of your mind?! You’re telling me to ask another enemy of ours for help for whom Y/N was almost going to die!” Tom says disapproving her idea.

“Just listen to me for once all this rivalry between you and our dad is just because of the business. If he comes to know that Y/N is in danger he would certainly help cause he loves his family more than anything” she explains.

“Vanessa is right Tom only Victor can help you. The vipers were his gang after all he will know everything and you also need more men to overpower Ethan” William agrees.

“What do you guys say?” Tom looks at his brothers and Harrison.

“You should call him” they all suggest unanimously. After a little pondering Tom took a deep breath and dialed his number.

“You really have the balls to call us after what you did Holland” Julian quipped.

“Julian you gotta listen to me mate this is important. Ethan escaped” 

“Well it's not our problem that he escaped”

“He has your sister Julian” Tom informs.

“And why would I help you to save her who is the reason we are about to lose the whole drug cartel”

“It wasn’t your sister Julian it was Ethan all along he had been double crossing you and using the vipers to grab hold of the drug cartel behind you back”

“So what? We just don’t care now end the call”

“Jules, wait your sister is pregnant” Tom reveals as Julian perks up at the news.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” Julian asks with concern in his voice.

“She is expecting. I know you have had issues but I also know you care for her and so does Mr. Martinez. I know he is listening to this too. It's your daughter sir and if you really want her to stop hating you then help us take down Ethan” Tom’s voice breaks as he pleads with them.

“Dad?” Julian turned to Victor. 

“I'm gonna kill that bastard myself!” Victor mutters standing up from his chair enraged “everyone to get ready and tell them to meet at the Docklands”

****

After searching for almost three hours your father was able to locate you. You were being held in an old factory near Kennington. They drove to that place as fast as they could and stopped a mile ahead to not alert his goons. Carefully they walked over to the place and took down the guards posted outside surrounding the place. Tom along with Harrison and your father and brother entered the building killing anyone who came in their way. The deserted factory echoed with the loud noise of gunshots and you knew that Tom was here to rescue you.

“You hear that? Tom is here, you’re going to die Ethan” you quipped a knowing smile etched on your face.

“Not so easily” he goes to untie the ropes and pulls you up on your feet pressing his gun against the side of your head.

“Y/N!” Tom barged in.

“Come closer and she dies,” Ethan threatens.

“You might want to reconsider mate” Tom says with a sly smirk

“Why is that?”

“Your sister Meredith, is her name right? And she lives in an apartment near Brixton” he muses “guess what? my brothers happen to be there too” fear washed over Ethan’s face as he realized how the tables have turned and all thanks to your father who knew about his sister and told Tom about her.

“No, keep my sister out of this” he says weakly.

“You left me no choice mate” Tom tsks “it’s over Ethan so let Y/N go and no one gets hurt” he warns him as Ethan removes the gun from your head and lets go of you. You take one quick glance at him and then look at Tom standing in front of you. You immediately strided your way towards him with tears in your eyes but Ethan had something else in his mind. He lifted his gun again and pulled the trigger aiming at your back.

“Y/N!!” Tom shrieked but before the bullet could hit you Victor was on time to pull you in his tight embrace guarding you as the bullet hit him on his right  shoulder. He flinched in pain as you grasped on to his shirt trembling.

“Daddy?” you said weakly glancing up to him with tear filled eyes. 

“It’s ok mija I’m here now. Don’t worry everything is going to be alright” he caresses the back of your head gently as you feel your head spin. The stress was too much for you to handle and you fainted in his arms.

“Go get that motherfucker!” Tom shouted seeing Ethan trying to flee. His men were quick to grab him as Harrison snatched the gun out of his hand and punched him right at his face.

“Jules, take her to the hospital now!” your father instructed. Jules took you from his arms and carried you to the car and immediately left for the hospital.

Tom stalked his way towards Ethan as if he was a prey. He cocked his gun, his gaze stone cold eyes burning with rage. He kicks Ethan on his legs as his knees buckled and he kneeled down on the floor in front of him.

“Tom please let me go I swear I’ll go as far away as possible and never return back” Ethan begs for his mercy.

“You should have thought about it before you decided to shoot Y/N” Tom growled, pressing the gun in between his eyes. But for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. It didn’t feel right to him.

“Tom, what are you waiting for?” Harrison nudged him.

“I-I can’t, Y/N wouldn’t want this” Tom looked at him unsure of what to do “it’s better we hand him over to the police” he suggests.

“If you can’t I will” Victor interrupts and aggressively points his gun at Ethan.

“No Victor, wait!” Tom tried to stop him but it was too late he had already pulled the trigger and Ethan’s lifeless body collapsed on the ground.

“It’s ok Tom nobody gets away after messing with my family” he shrugs when the blaring of the sirens could be heard from a distance.

“Get out of here right now!” Victor says to Tom.

“But..” Tom hesitates.

“Leave or you’ll get caught too” he insists.

“What about you?”

“I think it’s time for me to pay for my crimes” he sighs looking at the gun in his hand with a contemplating smile etched on his face. The screeching of car tires could be heard as the bellowing of the sirens grew louder which was soon followed by the clamoring footsteps of people in tactical boots. 

“Now go to my daughter she needs you” Victor rushes him “and remember to keep her happy and safe or else I’ll hunt you down too” he warns him.

“Will keep that in mind” Tom smirks and walks out of the place.

“Raise your hands where I can see them!” Grace orders and without a single Victor raises his hands in surrender.

“Victor Martinez you are under arrest for embezzlement and several other crimes including hoarding and smuggling of illegal drugs and murders” Grace states pointing her gun at him along with a team of officers behind her. A male officer was quick to handcuff him. Tom watched it whole from a distance as he was led inside the police van before leaving for the hospital.

You woke up to the rhythmic beeping of the EKG. Your eyes slowly adjust to the lighting of the hospital room.

“Tom..Tom” you mumbled half awake.

“Hey, hey I’m right here” Tom quickly gets up from the couch and holds your hands as you sit up.

“Tom what happened?” you ask warily.

“You fainted honey, your blood pressure went low due to all the stress” he informs.

“What about our babies?” your hand goes to your stomach as you look at him with panic stricken eyes “are they ok? Tom, are they safe?” you rambled out of fear.

“Yes darling, they are safe and healthy the doctor’s confirmed” he assures you gently brushing your hair with his hands.

“Oh thank god” you heaved a sigh of relief.

“I think we should thank your dad too cause if he wasn’t there in time you would have got shot” he remarks.

“I know,” you say, staring at your lap.

“Y/N the interpol and police took your father”

“Well that was going to happen some or the other day anyways” you half shrugged.

“But he saved you, saved us”

“I know and that’s the irony for the first time my dad genuinely showed that cared about me and now I will never see him again” you say with regret in your voice.

4 months later….

You were seated in the huge courtroom of the New York State Supreme Court with Tom, Vanessa and your mother by your side as you awaited the jury’s verdict on the charges you, your father and brother have been indicted with. After your father’s arrest the underworld imploded and most of the leaders went into hiding to save their businesses and escape the law. It was a huge issue in the international media too, the trial went on for three months. You had to travel back and forth to appear before the court for the murders you were charged with. 

Though they could never find any proof against you, your dad and your husband made sure of that. Tom had told you that he had requested the families not to testify against you and they had agreed. But you know his way of requesting people very well : it's pointing a gun at their head. If they don’t agree then they are permanently relieved of their life. 

When you said that to him he laughed it off by saying “that’s preposterous! I would never do that” and you gave him ‘not buying it’ look “okay the old me would but I’m a changed man now and as I promised no violence” he clarified. But you knew better and you didn’t mind this time really cause you didn’t want to abandon this beautiful life you finally got and go to jail. 

Moreover in less than two months there will be two new additions to your little family and you don’t want to miss any of it. You knew that you could never get rid of the blood in your hands and so did Tom but this time you are gonna start afresh for those pure little souls that are coming to light up your entire world and remove the darkness that had been clouding your lives.

“The jury have reached a verdict” the judge’s voice echoed through the silent courtroom and Tom places his hand over yours comfortingly giving you a reassuring smile telling you that everything will be ok “and they unanimously find Victor Martinez guilty of the following charges related to extortion, money laundering, murders and illegal smuggling of drugs. He is being sentenced to lifetime imprisonment” the judge declared.

“Also due to lack of evidence the jury declares Julian Martinez and Y/N Holland innocent and free of all charges” he adds and Tom squeezes your hand gently with a soft smile and a relief in his eyes as you look at him mirroring his smile. 

“The court is adjourned for the day” the judge announced and everybody stood up from their seats to walk out of the room one by one. You watched your dad getting handcuffed and being taken away by the officials as your brother followed them to finish the rest of the formalities that needed to be done before they took your father to the prison. For once you wanted to hug him tight and let him know that you loved him even after whatever went down between you. You wanted to let him know that you have forgiven him, you felt bad for your mother too after all he is her husband.

“Don’t worry honey I’ll be fine” she touches your shoulder breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“I’m really sorry mom you don’t deserve this” you sniffled

“It’s ok, Y/N I knew this day was coming soon and how much ever you feel bad a crime is a crime”

“Mom, you can come live with us. I can talk to Tom, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind” you offered.

“No sweetie that’s not happening I’m better off here and Jules will be there I will be perfectly ok. You just take care of yourselves”  

“Hello Mrs Martinez” Tom interrupts.

“Hello Tom”

“Honey it’s quite some time you ate anything let’s get you something shall we?” he suggested to you.

“Yeah I’m feeling a little hungry to be honest” you  remarked.

“I know love, let’s go then there’s a nice café right around the corner of the street” he says as Julian joins you three too.

“All formalities are complete, it’s time for us to leave as well” he informs as you walk to him and held his hands.

“Jules please take care of my mother” you ask him with hopeful eyes.

“I will don’t worry” he pulls you in a hug and kisses your forehead “you guys take care too, alright” you nod and go to hug your mom before leaving the place with Tom.

Tom and you slowly walked out of the court and made your way to the café. Upon entering the shop you saw Vanessa already waiting for you as you went and sat down at the table while Tom went to give your orders. You were a little bit out of breath cause being seven months pregnant with twins is no big joke. You get easily tired now. Your stomach has grown round and big in the past few months which makes it difficult for you to bend down. But Tom was always there for you patiently helping you out. He even signed up for birthing and parenting classes so that you are ready for everything.

“Well finally it’s over isn’t it? You got what you wanted” V chimes.

“Yeah kind of” you sigh “is it wrong though that I feel bad for him?”

“Not at all after all he is our father we have the right to feel bad but past is past we gotta move on” you remarks “so how are the little munchkins?”

“Oh they are doing quite well and also not letting their mother sleep with their constant kicking seems like they can’t wait to come out already and so do I. I really want my precious sleep back” you joked.

“Oh sissy for the next two years forget about sleep cause you will be getting none” V snickers.

“Can’t complain though I voluntarily signed up for it” you shake your head smiling as you pull out a file from inside your bag “here” you say handing over the file to her.

“What is this?” V looks at you cluelessly.

“A deal is a deal, open it” you tell her as she opens the file and goes through the papers. Her eyes widened with shock as she finished reading the last page.

“What?! Are you serious?” 

“I told you I’ll give your rightful share in the family so this is it” you stated.

“But you are giving me the rum and diamond business. That’s yours” she emphasized.

“I know but I don’t have the time or interest to run it and I can’t handle the business in New York while staying in London. Moreover, Tom has decided to start a chain of luxury resorts and since I have a management degree I’ll be helping him to expand it” you explain “so I’m entrusting you with our family businesses. Welcome to the family V” you look at her with a proud smile.

“I’ll not disappoint you” she promises.

“I know you won’t”

..................................................................................

If you want to send blurb requests based on the series I'm more than eager to write so send me your ideas. Also suggest me some cute baby names both girl and boy. I was thinking of going with Beatrice or April and Cole or Ben but would like to hear your opinions as well ❤️

[shades-of-stony]

Royalty Stony AUs

A King for Christmas by iam93percentstardust

Summary: In 1867, Tony Stark flees New York after refusing to marry the alpha his parents chose for him. His money runs out in the small kingdom of Dacia, ruled over by King Steven of the Rogers line. Somehow, and he’s not entirely sure how, he ends up accepting the position of nanny to the king’s four children: Harley, Peter, Sarah, and Morgan.

Tony bonds with the children easily but their father is harder to get to know. Steve is still grieving his wife’s death four years earlier. His continued mourning has turned the once bright halls into dark and somber shadows of their former glory. Tony isn’t entirely certain what he can do but he knows that he has to do something or else the whole country, so attuned to their leader, will sink into despair. He begins by reconciling the king with his young children.

Meanwhile, the children have decided that it’s high time their father fall in love again—and Tony is the obvious choice. They concoct elaborate plans to force the two together, hardly realizing that Steve and Tony are falling in love, not through their shenanigans but through the quiet moments they share bonding over the love they have for the children.

A Higher Form of War by sabremc

Summary: Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

Basically one of those bodice-ripping romance novels I don't read (ahem) but with far more gay.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile) by starklystar

Summary: "You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

Fealty by  Lasenby_Heathcote and Robin_tCJ

Summary: Steve Rogers is Lord of America, and was gifted his corner of the kingdom of Starkland after amazing acts of heroism in the war against Hydra. A long, brutal winter forces Steve to go to King Howard for aid, and Howard agrees – under the condition that Steve bond with his Omega son, Tony. Steve agrees, of course, for the good of his people. Prince Tony is a trained Omega Consort – an Omega of status sent to a prestigious academy to become the perfect Consort Mate to high-status Alphas throughout the kingdom. At this academy they learn diplomacy, negotiation, proper manners, and, of course, the various ways to pleasure their Alphas.

I will wait by Shellhead616

Summary: Prince Stark was to marry a Prince he never met, for money he never wanted, to reign over a realm his father didn’t care for. But the Prince did care for his people. So he ran away, accidentally joined a group of misfits calling themselves the “Avengers”, with their fierce leader “The Captain". Although, when he discovers the secret the Captain has been keeping, everything changes.

one day by mvrcredi

Summary: One day.

One day Prince Steven would be king. One day he would have all the qualities to be an even better king than his father.

And maybe, one day, Tony would be his husband.

(But maybe, before that one day, Steven should reveal his secret to the man.)

My Loyalty to You by Hazein, Shi_Toyu

Summary: The Israelite nation has gone to war, Howard is acting erratic, and it’s everything Tony can do to argue with the war council to find the most advantageous strategies for their men. Then Thanos strides out of the enemy ranks and issues a challenge unlike any Tony has ever heard. If an Israelite can defeat him in one-on-one combat, their entire army will surrender. Too bad Thanos is twice the size of any man they have. Enter Steve Rogers, local sheppard and the king’s newest harp player, who claims he can fell this giant with nothing but a sling and a stone.

Whether he can manage it or not, Tony is just trying to figure out how you get to looking like that by tending sheep...

Arranged by NotEvenCloseToStraight

Summary: Royalty AU-- Howard arranges a match between Tony and Steve, but when Tony tries to run away with Tiberius instead, Steve goes after his betrothed and brings him home. Things are difficult between the couple at first, but an impulsive kiss leads to softer moments, and finally the arranged pair find happiness together.

Knight of Wands by  Sineala

Summary: Steve has reigned as king for ten years, and in a few days peace will finally come to his kingdom. Representatives of the Kree Empire are soon to arrive for the negotiations that will end the war between them once and for all. Steve is looking forward to settling down, with his hand-picked Avengers at his side -- led, of course, by the masked knight Iron Man -- and also his trusted advisors, the most beloved of whom is Tony, his court magician, the most powerful mage in all the land.

But when Steve's life is endangered, Tony makes the greatest sacrifice of all to protect his king, a sacrifice far greater than his life. And when Tony disappears under mysterious circumstances, Steve learns that even his closest friends keep secrets that he could never have suspected.

Chasing Daydreams by comecatchmeifyoucan

Summary: “Promise you’ll be there?” He mumbled into Steve’s chest.

“Of course.”

“Good.” Tony separated from Steve but his hand was still gently gripping the blond’s wrist. “Because the party only starts when I arrive, and I’m obviously not going if you won’t be there.”

Steve felt the brunet’s hand slip down to graze his, and he let it linger there for a second before it was suddenly pulled away from him. He could only hope that he had hidden his disappointment well.

Fortunately, Tony didn’t seem to notice Steve’s abrupt drop in mood.

✧ ─────── ♡ ─────── ✧

After years of pining for the brunet, Steve was finally going to get his chance to confess his feelings for Tony. If only he could find him in the crowd of masked-people first...

Luckily, when his hopeless crush is nowhere to be found, Steve meets a beautiful stranger to keep him company throughout the night.

heavy is the crown by theappleppielifestyle

Summary: “Why did you pick me? As a match. Howard forced you to marry, but you had - there were other options. Many of them.”

“Maybe I wanted to help you,” Tony says. “To help - anyone, for once. Your people needed it.”

Oh, Steve thinks dully. So it wasn’t about him at all. It’s - a comfort, in some ways. In others, it’s… less so.

“And-” Tony hesitates. "Everyone said you were kind. I thought… if I had to marry, I’d prefer to marry someone kind.”

(Or, Arranged Marriage AU.)

WIP:

The Crown- the stony au nobody asked for by Jo_StClaire

Summary: Tony is the sole Omega prince of Angsold, who falls in love with the Alpha Army Captain of a neighboring nation. When his father, King Howard, suddenly falls ill and passes, Tony's life is thrown out of wack when he becomes a reigning monarch at 25. Follow Tony through the struggles of being a newly-wedded Omega as well as a leader of a nation. He must learn to balance his love for his people with his love for his husband Steve. (Loosely Based off of the Netflix series The Crown)

No More, No Less by ABrighterDarkness

Summary: His father had been discussing it again, amongst his advisers. He was barely eighteen , what did he need of a wife at eighteen? Frankly, he was already tired of hearing about it. Tired of meeting the daughters of the various men that were deemed important enough. None of them had caught his attention in the least and he suspected that they never would. Not when his daydreams already consisted of intelligent brown eyes, rich brown curls and a wickedly charming grin.

Protea by Anonymous

Summary: After witnessing the injustice done onto his parents, Steve Rogers sneaks into the Ferrite Royal Palace to try and find answers. Fate decides to saddle him with solving shady scandals while unknowingly becoming involved with the nation’s omegan king, Anthony.

And deal with all the baggage and drama that comes along with it.

Or…

A Concubine!Steve AU

they're both princes in this one by vapaad

Summary: Steve Rogers is the first son of the United States The entire nation sees him as America’s golden boy. Handsome, smart, charming, and overall perfection– Steve is an icon to the youths of America. But Steve, well he has one little issue. He thinks Prince Anthony, yes the british prince, is a big jerk. Arrogant and an overall asshole.

So when an encounter between the two results in chaos, Steve and Anthony “call me Tony” are thrusted into a PR stint of being best friends. But soon enough, they both come to the realization that they want more, and there, bloomed a secret relationship between the first son of the united states, and the prince of England.

tell me i'm your national anthem by oopshidaisy for chasingconstellations

Summary: Red, White & Royal Blue AU. Tony Stark is the unwilling First Son of the United States, whose rivalry with beloved Prince Steve threatens UK/US relations. After an international incident involving a wedding cake, Steve and Tony are forced to fake a friendship for the public eye - a fake friendship that evolves into something real, and dangerous.

[deiliamedlini]

WIP Wednesday

I wrote this last night and really don’t know where I’m going with it because I wrote another section of this that’s completely different from this first part, but I’m having too much fun so this might become a long oneshot or like a two/three chapter short fic eventually. I signed into my Guild Wars account for the first time in forever to watch the chat and apparently Lion’s Arch isn’t as interesting as it used to be. Not that any of that is really relevant. 

This is Zelda and the Champions as internet friends playing a MMORPG video game called Hyrule Warriors. 

~

Zelda Harkinian loved Fridays. Not that it was a rare thing to be obsessed with the weekend, but she maybe loved it a little too much. After a week of lesson plans, and cleaning the classrooms, and sneezing students, and emails asking for an extension on a paper that wasn’t even due yet, she relished the escape the weekend provided. Granted, she still had to grade about a hundred tests, but that was a problem for Sunday or even Monday.

Smiling down at her roommate, a kitten she’d raised when she found it in the street all alone, Zelda fed her girl—whom she’d named Duchess because she had every intent of treating her like royalty—and played with her for a bit before throwing down her bag in her room and then grabbed a water and a granola bar before heading to her desk. She flipped her laptop open and booting up Hyrule Warriors, her favorite open world MMORPG.

Her internet sucked, so she grabbed her phone to aimlessly scroll to see if there was any news or updates. But it was pretty dull.

Instead, she thought back to how this whole weekend ritual began.

She’d been in a cavern just off of Death Mountain for about three days killing fire keese, lizalfos, and beamos. As a mage, her AOE skills made short work of the larger groups, hitting them all at once. It was especially useful here because her main specialties were water and light, but she struggled when boss fights came out. The NPCs weren’t great teammates, and she constantly found herself resurrecting far from the boss, only to make a long run with a health penalty that ended with her getting killed again, until her heath penalty was maxed out and she had to restart for any hope of succeeding. As a mage, her light armor made her vulnerable to physical attacks, and this boss was very physical.

Zelda didn’t like interacting with people in this game. It was massively popular, and the chat was always running. Sometimes, she’d just sit at an outpost and watch people talk. Her favorite interactions were often the random ones. She’d begun to look up the acronyms everyone used in chat just to understand them better. WTS= want to sell.

Indigo2421: WTS: Guardian Short Sword 4k rupees

Indigo2421WTS: Guardian Short Sword 4k rupees

Indigo2421WTS: Guardian Short Sword 4k rupees

Britneigh4Horses: WTS My mother. 1 rupee. Will pay postage fee.

But after her days of suffering in the lonely caverns in Death Mountain, she relented.

A quick search had her hands shaking, but she typed quickly so she couldn’t back out after she’d hit enter.

xPrincessZx: LFG Dodongo’s Cavern

Holding her breath, she’d waited in the hopes of a private message being sent to her.

One did.

(PM): ThunderstruckQueen: What missin are doing there?

(PM): ThunderstruckQueen: Mission*

(PM): xPrincessZx: I have to kill the Dodongo boss for the main story

ThunderstruckQueen would like to join your party.

Biting her nails, she’d accepted.

(PM): RockRoast12345: Still need someone?

(PM): xPrincessZx: Yes! That would be great! Thanks!

RockRoast12345 would like to join your party.

That had been how it started: A goron warrior with a Warhammer and some serious defensive moves joined as the tank to take as much damage for the team as he could stand, and a Gerudo Paladin had joined her party. Zelda was jealous of the purchase-only red hairstyle the Gerudo had for her character. She had a sword and shield, but her body flickered with elemental lightening magic. In-game purchase effects.

They’d defeated Dodongo with ease, and had gone on several missions together that day, taking down their storylines with relative ease. But they couldn’t function with the NPC healer who barely functioned at all.

So, ThunderstruckQueen had taken to the map chat and put out a request.

ThunderstruckQueen: I found someone. She’s a Zora Cleric. Level 40

RockRoast12345: Let her in! I want to get this one over with

Rutella Zoran IV would like to join your party.

After that, the four of them realized they worked so well together that they’d formed a guild. The Champions. ThunderstruckQueen paid the guild fee, bought a hall, and began decorating it with merchants, and chests. Zelda still shuddered, wondering what she did to have so many rupees ready to go. Needless to say, she made herself the leader.

Some days, they didn’t play together. Other times, only two of them were on. But on weekends, they all came together.

But it had been a Monday when Zelda played, and she’d been alone. Having already tossed her tissue box across her room in frustration, she debated making a new character with more defense, but she sucked it up and went into the Castle Town map, ready to ask for help. She couldn’t wait until she could get to be a higher level. As it was, she’d only gotten to these level 40 areas as a 32 because of Rutella.

Suddenly, a random Hylian man in green with a fancy sword and shield ran up to her and bowed. Zelda scoffed at her computer screen, unsure if she was supposed to respond.

She didn’t need to.

(PM): WildKnightOut2: Hey Princess

(PM): xPrincessZx: Hello?

(PM): WildKnightOut2: Jst wondering if u have a spare flower crown from yesterday’s festival. Missed it. Will pay

Zelda pulled up her inventory, forgetting she was still wearing her flower crown from the Flower Fest. It must have been what tipped him off. In fact, she had four spares.

(PM): zPrincessZx:  Yeah, I do. Come to the chest and I’ll trade.

(PM): WildKnightOut2: Thx

She’d never done a trade with anyone who wasn’t in her guild, so she’d felt nervous running to grab it.

(PM): WildKnightOut2: How much u want?

(PM): xPrincessZx: Actually, I’ll give it to you free if you’re willing to help me with a quest? Or 10k.

WildKnightOut2 would like to join your party.

She accepted and watched his character appear in the corner of her screen.

WildKnightOut2: That’s a rip off, btw. Crowns are with 15k at least. Don’t undersell

xPrincessZx: Thanks. I didn’t realize. I’m still kind of new.

WildKnightOut2: Howd u get out here then?

xPrincessZx: I had a run from a friend in my guild.

WildKnightOut2: Got room for a warrior in there?

Zelda introduced him to the other Champions when they’d signed back on, and after a few weeks, Zelda had leveled up enough that she didn’t need to constantly rely on a teammate. But still. She liked Wild the best after ThunderstruckQueen.

They’d brought in a Rito Ranger named TheBestYouveNeverMet, which immediately set Wild off.

(PM): WildKnightOut2: should I aggro a group over so he has to fight them for us?

(PM): xPrincessZx: No! Don’t do that! I’ll get sent over to deal with them!

(PM): xPrincessZx: HEY! I SEE YOU ON THE MAP!

(PM): xPrincessZx: WILD GET BACK TO THE GROUP

On the mini-map, she saw a hoard of red coming at them and rolled her eyes before joining TheBest to kill them with area attacks. Rutella stayed back to heal them, but Thunder and Rock both continued on, unfazed.

ThunderstruckQueen: Wild you’re an idiot

But that was then. This was now.

They’d been together for months as a guild, and now, the six of them knew how the others worked.

If Wild or TheBest took off on their own, no one would follow. They’d both been killed numerous times in an attempt to piss the other off. Zelda had learned to stay with Thunder and Rock. Rutella flitted between running back to revive the idiots, or sticking with the smarter members while letting them heal on their own.

(PM): WildKnightOut2: u wound me

Zelda chuckled, but he wasn’t done.

(PM): WildKnightOut2: After all ive done for u

(PM): WildKnightOut2: u leave me to die

(PM): xPrincessZx: Don’t run off next time

It was a Wednesday when she and Wild were playing alone, so they freely used party chat for ease. She’d surpassed his level, and towered as a 93 while he was an 87.

WildKnightOut2: Hang on. Fuzzball wants food

Zelda stared at his character on her screen, wondering if he looked anything like that avatar. Blonde hair, muscular, piercing blue eyes. She’d made her character look like herself, so it wasn’t hard to imagine others had. Plus, he was the only Hylian. She highly doubted that RockRoast12345 was actually a giant rock-man, or that Rutella Zoran IV was a short fish lady.

She knew everything about these people except their names, faces, and voices.

She knew that ThunderstruckQueen was a single mother who called her daughter Ri on chat. She was a chief of police, and had a few hundred of her force to look out for. Still, she wanted to quit soon to join the military reserve forces now that her daughter was getting older. Devoted and loyal, Thunder occasionally snapped when everyone would start fighting with each other, though it was usually directed at TheBest and Wild, the annoyance sometimes extended out to others.

She knew that RockRoast12345 was older than all of them and had a young grandson. He’d bonded with Thunder over their children at first, and then, without meaning to, they became the parents of the group. Recently, Rock had retired from working as a supervisor in a mine, and gaming had become his way of relieving some of that boredom. But he told the best stories when they were idling around, just stories about anything, and they were always captivating. Also, he was afraid of dogs.

She knew that Rutella Zoran IV was the daughter of a politician. She cared for her little brother like he was her own, and sometimes, he took control of her character, proudly revealing that his real name was Sidon. She was in school to be a doctor, and that made her family prouder than anything. She lived and breathed for her family.

TheBestYouveNeverMet was a pilot. His schedule was the most hectic out of everyone’s because of the flights, but he was sarcastic to the core, and sometimes, the sarcasm was simply rude and definitely didn’t translate well over chat. He was superior, and since he’d been playing the game longest, he thought it entitled him to make more decisions. But Zelda knew from her private conversations with him that deep down, he was sweet and caring. He’d always be the first to ask her how her day was, and he’d learned some of her students’ names to ask if they’d been nuisances.

But Zelda spent the most time talking to WildKnightOut2, so she knew the most about him. At first, they’d bonded over the fact that they both had cats. His was called Fuzzball, an orange, fat cat that needed to exercise more. He’d tried to leash him, but Fuzz wasn’t interested. Sometimes, Fuzz would crawl over the keys, send Wild running, and send chat a long stream of letters.

He was funny and made comments in her private chat while they were playing that had her roaring at times.

He was a rock-climbing instructor and in his free time, he was a free solo climber. When she’d looked it up, she’d been horrified to see that he basically climbed mountains without a harness or ropes, and a fall could kill him. She’d asked if he was good at it, or just did it for fun, and his answer had been an ambiguous “yes.”

She knew about his family. He didn’t live near them, but he kept in contact with his grandparents, his father, and his little sister.

WildKnightOut2: k back. Where we going princess?

xPrincessZx: I need to farm for new armor out in the Haunted Wasteland. Do you need to do anything?

WildKnightOut2: I need to help u farm in the haunted wasteland. What do you need?

xPrincessZx: 10 Rubies

WildKnightOut2: damn ok I have 2 u can have so u only need 8

xPrincessZx: Thanks. How’d that party go last night?

WildKnightOut2: Sucked

xPrincessZx: Cool details

WildKnightOut2: If ud been there, ud have hated it

xPrincessZx: Why?

WildKnightOut2: Bunch of self-absorbed idiots. Like TheBest is

xPrincessZx: Lol. He’s not that bad.

WildKnightOut2: if u say so

They headed into the Wasteland looking for red poes that had rare drops for rubies. She and Wild took out a few groups before they started to struggle. Neither could play and talk at the same time fast enough to warn the other that something was happening, and they both ended up at the shrine of resurrection more times than they cared to admit.

xPrincessZx: Hey Wild. This might sound weird, but do you have that gaming app where we could just maybe voice chat?

xPrincessZx: Unless you’re not comfortable with that. We can invite the others, and when we play together, and it would probably make life a thousand times easier

xPrincessZx: But it’s okay if you don’t want to

WildKnightOut2: yeah I have it

Oh, Zelda thought to herself. That was easy.

xPrincessZx: Do you want to add me? I have the same name

She watched her phone like it was food in the microwave, only occasionally glancing at her computer to see if Wild had sent her another message. She drummed her fingers and her leg started to bounce until her screen lit up.

WildKnight has sent you a friend request.

She hastily hit accept and grabbed her headphones from the drawer before typing into her phone.

xPrincessZx: Your name is missing a few things here.

WildKnight: Yeah HW already had someone with this name so I added on

xPrincessZx: The meaning completely changes

WildKnight: which do you like better?

Zelda froze, unable to make her fingers type. Was he flirting? Was that how people flirted online? She was really good at reading body language cues, and that was always how she knew someone was flirting. But this? There was no context! How was she supposed to know?

xPrincessZx: Which fits your personality more?

That was a safe way of getting out of answering while still sounding maybe like she was flirting. Right?

WildKnight: this one

Zelda’s face warmed up and she put her head in her hands, unsure how to respond. How does she respond to that? What if he wasn’t flirting? What if he was.

[seyaryminamoto]

my school works are piled up this past few weeks (graduating tingz) and i just started reading the deadlock novel it feels like i'm reading a sokkla fic every time Mcashe has a scene because they just give off the vibes skskskskksksks. BTW, what's your top5 fav scenes from the novel? PS: I'm smiling like an idiot while reading the novel ughh i hate myself

I KNOW, RIIIIIGHT?! *-* and don't hate yourself, my anon friend, I spent the whole novel smiling and laughing and losing my goddamn mind because I was having the time of my life xD enjoy this beautiful content as best you can!

I mean, frankly, Reunion already had all the Sokkla vibes I could've wanted/needed to ship these two like FedEx and I always knew I wasn't getting off this ride anytime soon. But gosh, this book... it gave me everything I wanted and MORE! Their dynamics are soooo similar to Sokkla team-up dynamics, two power couples kicking ass and taking names... oh, I just love it so much. I probably will end up reading the book a third time soon x'D

As for my favorite scenes, damn, this is tricky xD

KEYCHAIN! HE MADE HER KEYCHAIN!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! God, it's just amazing how the book explains the "vintage" look for Ashe's hoverbike the way it does, and that they literally built it together *screams!!!*, but then he gives her that keychain for her birthday present, and the implications!! THE IMPLICATIONS!!! He gave her a keychain she's held onto for TWENTY YEARS?!?!?! Ships in the OW fandom have sailed far and wide with less than breadcrumbs: we literally have been granted a boon from the GODS with all this extra context for the little things in Reunion xD

Ashe going to hell and back to save her kidnapped BFF-for-whom-she-totally-doesn't-have-feelings-yeah-yeah-sure-Jan. I love the fact that McCree is, in a way, Ashe's damsel in distress and not the other way around xD Of course, it's what you'd expect from an Ashe-centric story, but it's still an amazing sequence, all around. Gotta highlight how she loves the way he smiles like a madman when they have that shootout at the end, and how he worries so much over Ashe's injury when he took an even worse one than she did (the Sokkla vibes in that particular situation were SO STRONG! I SWEAR!).

"Jesse McCree, are you trying to make me say you're handsome?" "Am I?" ... do I need to say more. That FLIRTING. These two were on fire already and they'd only known each other for like... weeks, at this point? x'D He has no sense of moderation, he's soooo into her and doesn't hide it at all. Ashe is so busy trying to plot all the crime and Jesse's practically like a shojo heroine, "oh I can feel it, this is how my love story begins!", basically xD

Finally I pick a not-McAshe scene... to bring up the one where Ashe picks up the Viper on her last moment in Lead Rose Manor. That moment was just... POWERFUL. The feeling of epicness in that scene just overwhelmed me when I was reading it xD

The ending of the book :'D the fully formed Deadlock Gang ready for business, down to the explanation for the Est. 1976 in the logo... *sobs* the fact that so much about the character design choices in these two characters is a shoutout to the past they share is just... *gross sobbing* oh, I just love it to pieces, I'm not even sorry.

Ashe's bike race to save B.O.B. x'D that whole situation was bonkers but I looooved how fierce she was about protecting her one and only buddy while growing up (AND THAT JESSE BLUSHED WHEN SHE TAUNTED HIM WAS JUST THE CHERRY ON TOP!). I appreciated learning more about the Omnic War and its consequences, how Ashe reflects on having escaped it practically untouched in virtue of her money and societal privilege while her new friends all faced many hardships to survive. But I can't help but also love that, however uneasy others could have been about the Best Omnic Butler, Ashe was so fiercely loyal to B.O.B. that she nearly broke Julian's nose herself over his ridiculousness x'D That's HER big omnic buddy and she's not about to lose him to anyone, not her shitty parents, not a bet in a race, NOTHING! (and it's so cute that B.O.B. is just as loyal to her, too *sobs*)

Ashe grabbing McCree's arm to explain things to him on their first heist and him being all "you gonna leave that there?" and only then does she realize her hand's still on him x'D what a McCree line, and he was absolutely enjoying the attention, he doesn't even pretend otherwise.

Everything poetic McCree says or does... meanwhile Ashe's like "um yeah I don't care about poetry I want money", right until his poet soul totally smashes her square in the heart with the KEYCHAIN!!! But damn, I swear I thought McCree would hold back a lot more, and yet there he was, saying things like Calamity was brilliant and mysterious... you could practically hear B.O.B., Julian and Frankie going "I can see what's happening..." in the background xD

The conversation about what they wanted to do once they were loaded with all the cash they could possibly want. That one was a real number on my heartstrings. It ties up to what I said earlier with Ashe finally being in touch with people who are completely removed from the ridiculous social circles of her parents and her school, people who really lost a lot in the war. But where Julian and Frankie seem to look at the past a lot, I loved that Jesse is basically just thinking about the future. The fact that he says he wants to chill out in a farm and that this is what he wants in life... many, MANY, shippy wheels have turned in my head since I read that <.< maaaany...

WHEN JESSE NEARLY FALLS AND ASHE CATCHES HIM!!! UNDERRRATED AS HECK!!! The fact that he's taunting her about fear of heights, then he nearly plummets to his death because ironies are beautiful xD and Ashe pulls him back to safety only to say that she's not afraid of heights but afraid of ~FALLING~??? I mean, okay, sure, maybe I'm reading too much into that line... or maybe I'm not <.< either way, the truth is I just love how absolutely broad of interpretation that scene and that DIALOGUE are :> ehehehe.

Oh, their first encounter. The fact that it's so cute and fun, and that it's this low in the list tells you how GOOD this book was x'D "You've got an awful lot of grit for a rich girl," first words he spoke to the love of his life xD then how they talked and laughed together about the crazy stories he shared (she was crying of laughter for the first time in her life! precious girl!), and then how she sat in the car thinking about the strange feeling she was left with after meeting him... they seriously had a meetcute in prison, how can a ship get any better? xD

WHEN HE COMES BACK TO HER WHEN THEIR FIRST HEIST GOES WRONG!!! That Ashe expects him to just leave after she falls off their getaway vehicle, but Jesse saves her and goes "pfft that's just not my style", basically... *sobs* without realizing it she ends up picking up that particular philosophy of his, saving her friends no matter the cost...! Honestly, though, the fact that every time something like this happens it hits Ashe like a truck racing downhill with no brakes because she's NEVER been cared about by anyone but B.O.B. and she's completely new to friendships and bonding with people... and in the mean time, Jesse immediately is "ride or die" with her because that's how he rolls... beautiful relationship dynamics between characters who influence each other for the better are just beautiful :')

A silly one here: Jesse enjoying the good life in Lead Rose. That description of him looking like a marshmallow in the CHAISE LOUNGEEEEE!!! (the one he references in their in-game interactions *CRYING SO MANY TEARS*), was just too cute to bear x'D Ashe just jumping back into work mode... while he was just thrilled to be a marshmallow in a towel xD

... So, um, I went overboard because I love this book a little too much for my own good :> what can I say? When things I love are good, I go wild xD There's probably more scenes I loved, but these... thirteen? XD are the ones that came to mind.

I think one of my favorite things now is reexamining Reunion with all this extra context in mind. The first time I watched that cinematic I, of course, fell in love with these two outlaws because how could I not? But while subsequent rewatches revealed a lot of things I didn't pay enough attention to the first time around, the book has done even more than I could imagine possible for a short that was already as shippy as could be xD

Ooookay so, shippy ramblings about Reunion, coming up! (simply because I have to put these down SOMEWHERE XD and your ask was a good idea for that, anon!)

First off, Jesse very much staged the whole rodeo in Reunion. He sent the tip to Ashe, he wanted Echo's crate specifically. He thought they could work together, basically, despite knowing it was entirely possible that those hopes wouldn't pay off. This train, according to the wikia, was a government train, so Jesse is very much telling Ashe to give a finger to the government for all he cares, all he wants is one (1) crate.

Ergo, Jesse, for all his "nice guy bountyhunter" deal, doesn't disapprove of Deadlock's actions. If anything, he counts on them to be exactly what he needs in order to get what he wants. He practically trusts Ashe to pull off the train heist disaster perfectly and only steps up when it's time to collect Echo.

Then the wacky shoot-out happens, it's veeeery charged (the UST is so thick, I swear...), and Jesse wins. He ties up Ashe, floats her off on the payload with the rest of the gang, and he sets Echo free. He's helping her out very nicely and everything, but the context in question is... he received the recall notification thingy XD Winston called him back to Overwatch, and Jesse...

... Jesse doesn't want to go back.

Jesse says "they want me", and the displeased tone of his voice, paired with the look on his face when he says that line, speak for themselves.

That, in my humble opinion, isn't the sequence of expressions you'd expect from someone who intends to return to the group where he thrived, had the time of his life and found his true calling. To me, he actually looks irritated about the recall (the sequence of expressions during that line is much better when you watch the full thing x'D), as though he REALLY doesn't want to return. He's not against Overwatch, I'm not quite saying that, otherwise he wouldn't have set Echo free and told her to go back at all... but this isn't remorse. It's not "Oh, I'm not good enough for Overwatch anymore". Nope... this is "My time with them is over and I don't plan on going back unless I have no choice", as far as I can tell.

If OW2 does bring him back into the fold and he's a perfectly chill and happy guy about it, I'll seriously be surprised. I mean, he could have set Echo free and, once his business is over, returned to Overwatch with her, he could have been in the Paris cinematic if he'd done that...

But he's not there.

Which outright says he didn't do that :> oops.

Basically, I think Jesse's reaction in Retribution (where he's markedly the most morally correct one of the bunch, and he's the former outlaw :'D) tells you his displeasure with Overwatch ran very, very deep. And someone can very easily say he felt the same way about Deadlock and that's why he left them for Overwatch... but that's conjecture. His displeasure with Blackwatch (and, in consequence, Overwatch), however, is FACT. And the previous conjecture falls flat pretty quickly considering he's perfectly fine with Ashe's train heist, even sets it up himself, from what the story suggests, so... how ~appalled~ was he over her choices and actions? Not appalled at all, if you ask me, and after you read Deadlock Rebels, you actually understand why: Jesse trusts Ashe.

From the first moment she enters the same prison block he's in, he's drawn to her. He wants to impress her, he absolutely enjoys her company and making her laugh (just as much as she enjoyed laughing at his wacky stories), and he's plain thrilled that she comes back for him when she does. Ashe manages the gang with inexperience but she's always willing to improve, and you see Jesse sticking with her through thick and thin, supporting her at the best and worst times alike, always putting his faith on her and constantly watching out for her (he protected and shielded her from attacks with his own body sooooo many times *sobs*). Ashe starts out intending to keep most profits for herself, and Jesse doesn't care much at first... but then she starts to share profit equally between their team. She works on her own bike herself, her own ride, and she plans and solves problems as best she can, to a point of even going overboard with planning too much. She's wild, reckless and takes insane risks... and this guy loves every second of it. The matter of morality regarding the actions of a criminal gang is, of course, something to think about... but as far as the book goes, Ashe mainly targets her own family, their specific brand of bullshit, and in the process she ends up helping lots of people and even saving lives that might not have been saved otherwise. I'm not going to put my hand on the fire here and say Deadlock never ever did anything absolutely wrong to people who didn't deserve it... but for a criminal gang? They're honestly the most wholesome one the OW team could have come up with, if you ask me.

So where you see Jesse is very much antagonistic with Reaper/Reyes, where he loses his temper with the guy's choices, he doesn't ever do that with Ashe. Overwatch ARE supposed to be the good guys... so how weird that Jesse McCree, reformed outlaw, ends up so disappointed with these guys when he was actually thrilled with Ashe's managing of their gang, as far as we saw. So much so that, when it came down to it, Jesse McCree, 20 years later, still counts on Ashe to give him a hand (without her full awareness) with a little operation to help out an old friend of his. Also worth pointing out: he doesn't want to fight at all, while Ashe, of course, does. Deadlock for life, is what Jesse said... and he's not Deadlock anymore, hasn't been for who knows how long. Worse yet... his tattooed arm is gone. It's like all his ties to Deadlock have been severed.

And even so, he came to Ashe and hoped she wouldn't want a shootout with him. Even when he knows she might be beyond unforgiving because of the betrayal (he has seen directly how outraged she was about a certain someone betraying her in the book...), Jesse goes back anyway and hopes it won't come to this.

THE IMPLICATIONS, MAN!!!

Carrying on: Echo is surprised that Jesse shows no intentions of going back to Overwatch. She asks him what he's going to do... and what does Jesse say?

He puts his cowboy hat back on (the symbolism in this short, I swear...), and when she asks him what he's going to do, he tells her "I've got some business to attend to."

THE MUSIC PICKS UP.

AND THEN HE CLIMBS ON THE BIKE HE BUILT WITH ASHE.

YOU GET A DELIBERATE CLOSE-UP TO THE KEYCHAIN.

THEN THE CAMERA PANS UP TO FOCUS ON THE PICTURE, TORN AND TAPED BACK TOGETHER, THAT ASHE CARRIES ON THIS BIKE, A BIKE WHICH, LET'S BE REAL, IS BASICALLY A MCASHE BABY CHOPPER/HOVERBIKE HYBRID, AND AS SHE PUTS IT LATER, IS...

HER

BIKE!!!

When Jesse says he has business to attend to, he could pick up any bike he wants (since it'd stand to reason that the other guys Ashe came in with would have bikes of their own). He could escape on horseback for all we know xD so there are lots of options... but no. He takes HERS. Right after saying he has "business to attend to".

Look, I could be wrong. I could be dead wrong. I can absolutely be digging around and going INSANE because nothing I ship EVER gets this much content.

But we literally get a guy saying he has "business" to take care of, and the cinematic focuses exclusively on elements that, even BEFORE Deadlock Rebels, all point towards Ashe?! You could easily say that taking her bike is just the final nail on the coffin, his last trolling idea to mess with his one true love... but that picture is right there. That picture, with them in their youth. The picture, btw, was bigger than just them: B.O.B.'s hand is there. The top of the picture is uneven, suggesting Ashe probably tore it to shreds in a fit of rage... and then specifically put together THEIR PART. And then she taped that to her bike's dashboard. Meaning, she carries the goddamn memory of Jesse with her EVERYWHERE SHE GOES. And she does it WILLINGLY.

Which, in turn, answers why Jesse expects MAYBE Ashe wouldn't go full-on hostile when they meet: this trolling cowboy knows exactly what he means to Ashe. He's not surprised when he sees that picture on the bike. He doesn't toss it away, which he could have, if he were saying "we are history now, forget it gurl" (and let's be honest, what a dick move that would have been @_@), he doesn't flinch after noticing and then goes "yeah, no, I'm picking another bike".

NOPE. The familiarity with which they talk, the way he hopes she'll just let him walk away, the fact that she DIDN'T change the keychain and bike in all those years and he's not even SURPRISED...

Jesse knows how much she loves him, point-blank. He's completely aware of it... and he's very much okay with it.

So much so... that I'm something of a 90% sure that the business he intends to deal with is ASHE HERSELF.

And no, I don't mean he's going to go on another shootout with her... I mean, evidently, that Jesse wants to come home. That he's tried the life of Overwatch, and he's decided to leave it behind. He's turned bountyhunter now, vigilante, pretty much... but he comes back to Ashe all the same. He's come back for the first time in who knows how long (going by Ashe's expressions and sarcasm with the "you promised you'd write" line, it miiiiiiight be they haven't seen each other since he got recruited into Blackwatch), and he expected a peaceful encounter, no less.

A good question to ask here is... what did Jesse hope would happen, if the encounter HAD been peaceful? He would've released Echo, sent her away to her business, and stayed behind anyway because he had business to deal with. Which business? :'D why... the business that would've been standing right in front of him.

There's no other, logical reason why this cinematic would put Ashe and McCree's picture into focus right when McCree says what he does to Echo. There's no other reasonable choice why McCree would turn his back on Overwatch quite so firmly. We know he had two important ties in his life: Overwatch and Deadlock. And Overwatch stole him away from Deadlock for a VERY long time. Well over half the time Deadlock has been in operations, as far as I can tell. He picked Overwatch over Deadlock once before... and now, it seems he's picking Deadlock over Overwatch instead :')

The follow-up short, Roadtrip, doesn't do anything to change my mind. The trolling jerk, Jesse McCree, hovers past Ashe's payload, where she's just... complaining, as she hovers xD going by what I know of the game and that map, the payload may just be en route to the gang's hideout, so that, I'd say, could explain why she hasn't climbed off it or escaped in any way (which she reasonably would have, if Jesse was trying to, I don't know, send her and her people to the authorities).

My point here is, however, that Jesse is headed the same way the payload is. If his destination is the same one, he'll beat it there for sure. Maybe, yes, he'll go away and drive well past the hideout... but maybe that's exactly where he intended to go.

Maybe, in the end, Reunion is about a man who's finally coming home :D

In addition, goes without saying, Ashe's rant about how everyone falls to pieces over Jesse showing his "stupid mug" (uh-huh, stupid, ANGELIC mug, we know what you really think, girl xD) ends with her saying she should have "put a bullet in him the minute he showed up".

Which begs the question of why didn't she.

Then, of course, she says she hates McCree when he drives past her while listening to some really ridiculous honky-tonky-sounding music x'D I cannot even help but imagine him deliberately picking that radio station or whatever it was just to annoy Ashe when he drove beside her, and so that she can get extra pissed when she retrieves her beloved bike, turns on the music and it's just more honky-tonky stuff x'D but anyway, the thing is she shouts after him, tells him that's her bike and says she hates him. B.O.B. wordlessly speaks for us McAshe shippers by giving Ashe the most "sure, Jan" side-eye in the history of side-eyes, and Ashe notices and is outraged enough to knock B.O.B.'s little hat right off his head again.

Again... this is renowned outlaw Elizabeth Caledonia "Calamity" Ashe, sitting on a payload, groaning about the guy she once very much had feelings for (and that doesn't even begin to cut it, if you ask me x'D) and for whom she tooooootally doesn't anymore, that picture on her bike doesn't MEAN that, OBVIOUSLYYYY!!, and so, she sits up, complains and doesn't do much of anything to get out of her current situation, right? :>

So, summing up my current understanding of EVERYTHING, thanks to Deadlock Rebels and my obsessive rewatches of Reunion + Roadtrip:

Jesse deliberately sought out Ashe so she would indirectly, unknowingly, help him set Echo free from the government's clutches.

Jesse hoped for a peaceful encounter despite knowing he might not get one.

Jesse has no intentions of returning to Overwatch but was willing to perform one final act of service for them by releasing Echo so she'd go give Winston and co. a hand.

Jesse is NOT surprised to see that Ashe: 1. Didn't change bikes at some point in the twenty years since they built it. 2. Didn't swap the ignition key for a button, the way she says she thought to do it in the novel until he gives her the keychain. 3. KEPT THE POETIC AF KEYCHAIN, despite resenting Jesse for his betrayal. 4. KEEPS A PICTURE OF THEM IN THEIR YOUNGER YEARS PASTED ON HER BIKE'S DASHBOARD.

Jesse claims he has business to deal with: he doesn't clarify said business verbally, but every shot after he says those words focuses on elements related to Ashe... and then, along with the novel's context, it's elements related to their BOND. Everything in that shot, EVERYTHING, is connected to the two of them. Elements that weren't shown before or during their shootout, and that are only introduced in that final moment when McCree is off to deal with his "business".

Ashe doesn't climb off the payload or stops it (which, going by how McCree simply pressed a button, and Ashe isn't immobilized in the least, she easily could have done it too if she had wanted to). Suggesting that, wherever the payload is heading, it isn't anywhere dangerous for Ashe and her crew, ergo, she is 100% sure McCree isn't trying to screw her over by turning her in to the authorities or so (or, at worst, she's completely confident that, even if he is going to do this, she'll be able to get out of it easily).

Jesse drives in the same direction the payload is headed. Another hint that suggests he might intend to head to the Deadlock hideout and that, whatever business he has left to deal with, it involves them.

If his intent ISN'T to go to the hideout... Jesse is still guaranteeing that Ashe will come after him by stealing her bike, the 18th birthday gift he gave her, and the picture she keeps of them. That he takes that very bike practically serves as painting a target on his back for her to hunt down, and he KNOWS IT.

In short: Jesse will have plenty of business with the Deadlock Gang in his future, and going by how pleased he seems to be when riding the bike, he's perfectly happy to handle that business on his terms, whenever he wants to handle it.

Extra tidbit: there's nothing in Deadlock Rebels about Jesse's smoking habit, something he definitely did pick up at some point while in the gang because, hahaha, he IS smoking in the picture Ashe keeps of him :> Which makes me wonder why, of all pictures Ashe chooses to keep on her bike's dashboard, she picks one where he's smoking.

Then, it makes me wonder about the fact that Jesse deliberately starts smoking when he's standing right in front of her (and then he winks at her!). He tosses that cigar after things get kind of dangerous for him because B.O.B. does something, and then... then he goes back to smoking.

RIGHT WHEN HE'S CLIMBING ON THE BIKE.

Like... seriously...

*unintelligible fangirl screaming*

I could be looking too deeply into this. I know I could be. Maybe Blizzard just wants me to go CRAZY with little symbolism and hints charged with SO MUCH MEANING that maybe don't have as much meaning as I thought it did...

... But man, I've sailed into the depths of the shippiest oceans for many ships that have gotten actual breadcrumbs from canon. I've gone wild over ships that have zero opportunity to become a thing in canon continuity. I've written a nearly 3M words story based on a ship that is just UNEXPLORED AMAZING POTENTIAL and ngl, I love exploring it myself, so I don't even begrudge canon that much for not giving it to me anymore.

But the fact is, no ship in OW, as far as I've seen, has remotely as much content, hints and strong ties as McAshe does -- at least, no ships between heroes. We had a cinematic that was CHARGED with significance, with little gestures, with even the smallest facial expressions that carried soooo much more meaning than whole episodes or even seasons in TV shows. And then? We got a novel. A full novel depicting their origins and exploring their dynamics, how tight their friendship was, and how some strong feelings were certainly brewing there, even if neither one was ready to act on them yet (as far as we saw...).

Finally... I'll say I did start working on a Sokkla Western AU ages ago because the idea I had for one was pretty amusing. Then Reunion dropped, and I said "Why would I need to finish that story anymore when the Sokkla Western AU is RIGHT HERE?!"

And that's it, I will stop rambling now because this got insanely long x'D but thank you very very much for giving me this chance to go WILD on everything I can see, within all those canon hints, with these two *-*

[naitiaclo960writings]

Day 8 - Heartless

(Warnings: Past major character’s death and quick mention of disease / grief. It’s an happy ending tho)

September

When Castiel fell asleep in the operating room on the morning of September 14, he was prepared to never wake up again. He had never been a religiously committed man unlike his parents, and yet he knew that he had prayed before closing his eyes.

It has been more than 3 months since he entered the list of organ recipients to replace his heart tired by illness. Unfortunately, he had inherited a heart malformation from birth and had survived to the age of 28 without being too disabled, but the congenital heart disease had caught up with him midyear. After a whole series of tests and a permanent hospitalization, the doctors had been very clear: either he had a heart transplant or he had only a few months left to live.

The hardest part was seeing his friends and family coming to see him every day with a darker face as nothing moved on the side of the organ center. Castiel was aware that he was not a priority among the thousands of people in need of a heart in the United States, but he tried to remain optimistic for the people he loved. His fight was rewarded a few days ago when he was told he had found a match donor.

For medical reasons, Castiel and his family weren’t allowed to know who the donor was. It was obviously not the priority in the eyes of all, but Castiel had insisted on knowing more and he had simply been informed that a heart had become available following a fatal road accident in the nearby city. There was something macabre about celebrating someone’s death, but that person had been generous enough to help other souls struggling to live and he could only salute that gesture.

"Take a deep breath." The nurse intimated, securing a mask on his face.

Thus the day of the fateful operation had arrived and Castiel was terrified. There were so many things to consider, so many factors that could tip the scales one way or the other. After one last thought to his family and, surprisingly, to his donor’s family, Castiel did as he was asked.

* * *

October

The operation was a success. He opened his eyes after said surgery. There was nothing more to say except that Castiel was grateful every day for the new beating heart in his chest. It was with this heart that he could now embrace his loved ones, laugh with his friends and discover a world he thought destined to disappear beyond the doors of this hospital.

Castiel was still in hospital and in the recovery phase, but he was doing well and could be out very soon according to his doctors. He had seen the scar on his chest last week and he couldn’t help but cherish it. This mark was the sign that he had survived. The sign that he had the right to live longer and to continue to build his life away from the health problems that had accompanied him all his life.

He was currently distracted by the television channels in his room — the afternoon programs were truly deplorable — when the nurse came in to serve him his meal.

"Hi Clarence. How’s my hottest patient today?" She exclaimed.

Castiel turned his head towards her with a small awkward smile as usual. He stood up gently in bed. 

"Hello Meg." He said politely. "I’m fine, my scar doesn’t even itch anymore."

Meg was definitely his favorite nurse and it seemed to be mutual. She had told him one day that she always arranged to be assigned to his room, for she liked their conversations, and Castiel could only agree with her. Despite her bad girl tease, Meg was now a good friend, always listening and present to support him in addition to being a good caregiver. Her honesty had helped Castiel to carry on in his fight against the disease and during his remission. They sometimes spent long minutes discussing their respective lives before Meg’s pager rang and she was called away. In addition, she sometimes smuggled him chocolate bars to make up for the hospital food and Castiel calling it "a survival aid".

"I hope so!" Meg said, setting up his lunch tray with a small smile." But at least it has the merit of giving you a little adventurous side. Did I ever tell you I have a thing for guys with chest scars?"

Castiel laughed softly, playing the game they both took pleasure in maintaining. Despite everything, it didn’t go any further than that: a game to brighten their days. Both knew how to settle for their already atypical friendship.

"At least twice a day." Castiel joked while leaning in his pillows. "Did anyone leave a message for me today?"

Meg could not help sighing and Castiel pinched his lips with sympathy.

They both knew what that meant. Castiel had insisted on registering on a site that put organ donor families and recipients in contact. However, the process was complex and if the family of his donor did not post any message on this site, then Castiel would have no chance to get in touch with them. Yet he was almost obsessed with this situation. He had this need, no, this irrepressible urge to thank the family of the one who had saved his life. It was something so important and, although he respected the choice of some to remain anonymous, he felt that he would not be able to leave this all behind until he had put a definitive end to this chapter of his life.

"No, Clarence, squat" Meg shook her head. "And even if they did, you know very well that you will not be able to contact them. The site does not allow any personal information or too intimate exchanges between families."

"I know." Castiel replied, abashed while planting his fork in the mashed peas. "But perhaps they will make an exception? I just want to know them and thank them for the gesture of their loved one".

Meg clicked her tongue while pushing the wagon towards the door.

"I know you want to do the right thing, you’re a damn angel with a halo over your head." She gave him a small grin of disgust that made Castiel smile. "But what if they didn’t want to meet you? They are probably—"

"Living a difficult situation and I would only remind them of their loss, yes, I know." Castiel mumbled without being able to help it. "But… Maybe that they also would like to know that the death of their loved one helped other people cope. It’s possible Meg. And maybe they just don’t know how to contact me or-"

Meg shook her head again with a little compassionate pout.

"Even if they knew, handsome, they couldn’t. It’s against the law. Medical confidentiality and all that crap." She sighed before she came to sit on the chair beside him and put her feet on his bed.

Castiel let out a groan of frustration.

"Yes… But there are necessarily registers somewhere, a way to find a contact." Suddenly, something seemed to light up in his eyes and he turned his hopeful face towards Meg.

"Oh no, don’t give me that look." She groaned, knowing that it was not good news.

Castiel ignored her.

"Could you have access to organ donor records? You told me the heart came from the next town."

"And just by doing that, I’ve already told you too much." Meg said, raising an insolent eyebrow.

"You must be able to find an address, right? There must be even a name or maybe a phone number. I mean, if it’s a medical secret then the information has to be somewhere. If I could just put my finger on a semblance of something, it would be…" He moistened his lips, thinking. " It would be incredible."

Meg grumbled again, throwing her head back with exaggeration.

"Let’s say I have access to this information, and I mean maybe. Just giving it to you could cost me my job, Clarence. Why is it so important for you to find the name of a dead guy?" She snapped.

At these words Castiel’s face slumped slightly. He remained silent for a moment, seeking the right answer to this question. Meanwhile, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest and the blood it sent to his brain was enough to formulate his next words.

"Because it is unfair that I survived among so many others." He said." My donor had relatives, maybe siblings, a dog, friends and all lost something too valuable to be replaced in this car accident. Yet that’s how organ donation works. Someone dies and allows others to live. But I know that, if I had died on that operating table, my parents would have liked to know through whom I would have continued to live. I feel responsible Meg."

Castiel took a shaky breath before gently biting his lip while his friend welcomed his words with contemplative silence. Television continued to gossip in the background, but Castiel no longer heard it, lost in his thoughts.

"And yet, you are not." Meg said gently, leaving aside her usual sarcasm this time.

Castiel nodded slowly.

"I know." He sighed again before returning to his plate. "I’m sorry, you’re right. I can’t ask you anything like that anyway, it was selfish of me."

Following this, only the noise of the cutlery against the ceramics as well as the television journalist was heard in the hospital room. Meg didn’t move, didn’t open her mouth either, while each of them thought about their commitments in this story.

Finally, after several minutes of silence, the nurse sighed dramatically.

"What the hell wouldn’t I do for those beautiful blue eyes." She said under her breath. "Okay, I’ll see what I can do about the address." She says while rolling her eyes before standing up.

Castiel turned his head so quickly towards her that he was afraid to break his neck.

"What?" He asked, stunned.

"But I can’t guarantee you anything, Clarence." Meg told him while sighing. "You don’t access their organ donor files like that, but… I may have a couple of people I could contact. But it’s just between us."

She glared at him, and Castiel nodded, mouth open.

"I... of course."

Meg swore softly.

"One more thing." She said." I’ll try everything, but if I don’t find anything, you have to promise me you won’t try to get a name anymore. Do we have a deal?"

Castiel closed his mouth in a discreet snap before taking his friend’s last words into consideration. Finally, he nodded again.

"I promise you." He said seriously.

"Good." Meg sighed. "You’ll owe me one, angel."

A smile appeared again on Castiel’s face, more tender this time, his heart still playing up its own behind the scar of his chest.

"Thank you, Meg." He whispered.

"Shuddup." She grumbled with a wink before her pager rang in the room.

In no time, she waved at him and disappeared in the corridor, taking the empty wagon with her. Castiel went back to his bed with a light smile on his face. Yes, Meg was a good friend.

* * *

November

Meg’s research had still not yielded anything even a month after Castiel left the hospital. Although he was now alone again in his large apartment, there was something exhilarating about being able to live normally as if he had not nearly died a few months ago. Finding a job at the florist in his town had been the first step in his new life as he slowly resumed a normal social life with his friends and family.

His own search had also given nothing and the inbox of the website that could put him in contact with his donor’s family remained hopelessly empty. Nevertheless, Castiel did not get the idea out of his head. He often dreamed of meeting these strangers, of the words he would say to them if they had the chance to do so.

It was during a cold November evening, while he was bundled up in a plaid on his couch in front of a TV show, that Castiel’s cellphone rang. It was not something particularly unusual, but the late hour of the evening immediately gave this call something special. When he reached out to his phone, he could see Meg’s name on the screen.

"Hello?" He said, picking up, his heartbeat accelerating.

"Hi Clarence." Meg, a net of excitement in the voice, hastily replied. "Tell me you’re sitting, handsome, I’d hate to hear you fall on your ass because of what I’m about to tell you."

At this, Castiel straightened up in the sofa, his heart going up his throat.

"I’m sitting." He simply said, his fingers tightening around his phone.

"Okay, because I have something for you!" Meg hummed. "The info cost me at least three boxes of chocolate and the promise of a date to the shady guy in the operating room. You know, the one who keeps wearing Britney Spears t-shirts under his blouses? He’d be doing karaoke parties with the girl from the fourth floor that I wouldn’t even be surprised at-

"Meg." Castiel impatiently cut her off.

"Yes, yes. All this to say that he knows who approved your transplant application. So…" She said with pride, leaving a second of silence to settle her effect. I know where your little heart comes from and how to reach out to the family!"

At once, Castiel felt the air blocked in his throat. These words, he had waited for them for months while everything gradually turned into a crazy and inaccessible hope. Suddenly, through a simple phone call, Meg had just remade his world.

"Are you certain?" He finally asked, with a short breath.

"Oh, Clarence, please! Don’t you trust your favorite nurse anymore?" Meg laughed immediately.

Castiel shook his head, a bit stunned. Meg resumed.

"I sent you everything by e-mail, you must have received it." She said with malice. "But remember: keep it under your hat pretty boy. You don’t know me."

"Yes, I... of course." Castiel stuttered, rising to rush towards his computer.

"Hey." Meg called him through the phone, her voice softer. "I know it’s important to you, but… take the time to assimilate the information, okay? You don’t have to contact them tonight."

Castiel knew she was right, but the excitement was in his chest. However, he took the time to thank Meg warmly and invite her to dinner next week before hanging up. A few minutes later he had his eyes fixed on a brand new e-mail in his inbox. Castiel took a great inspiration. He had waited so long for this moment that, now that he was faced with a fait accompli, he was almost afraid to go for it.

Finally, he found the courage to click on the screen. His eyes quickly passed over her friend’s introductory text before fixating on a name written in bold as well as a lot of personal information listed just below. Reading these few lines, Castiel felt his heart racing again.

Samuel William Winchester

Born: March 2, 1983, in Lawrence, Kansas

Died: September 13, 2006, in Des Moines, Iowa

Cause: Head injury, road accident

Blood type: O negative

Applicant for organ donation: Yes

Organ removed: Heart

The data sheet thus continued in a professional coldness that affected Castiel slightly as he felt his throat tightening. His donor was only 23 when he died. He read every piece of information carefully before he got to the part he was most interested in.

Contact person in case of problem: Dean Winchester

Donor affiliation: older brother

Castiel felt his hands become sweaty as his gaze slid over the address and telephone number of Dean Winchester. A heavy silence filled his apartment, Castiel still unable to detach his gaze from this decisive email.

That’s it. The family of his donor was only a phone call away and he could finally thank the entourage of his savior. However, with this crucial information came a bitter feeling that Castiel had not apprehended. He remained all night pacing in his living room, his eyes regularly returning to the phone number taunting him from the screen of his computer.

* * *

December

Three months. Three long months since his little brother had disappeared in a car accident, leaving him and their parents in the grip of nameless sadness. He could barely breathe most of the time thinking of that youthful face he would never see again.

Dean passed a tired hand over his face as he walked past the windows of an umpteenth shop decorated with trees and garlands. Celebrating Christmas seemed absurd, totally meaningless in such a context. What’s the point if he can’t see Sammy’s jaded face in front of his usual porn magazine that he buys especially for him every year, for the joke? His world has been tasteless for far too long now.

Mary managed to keep her head above water half the time, calling him every day to hear from him, to which Dean responded with as many reassuring words as he could. Everyone knew that most of them sounded empty, but they could only pretend to be okay these past few months. Dean was wondering if the pain would eventually go away. He was told yes. He doubted that. John, on the other hand, drank a little more every day and Dean felt guilty about leaving his mother with him all day, regardless of Mary’s reassuring words.

The ground seemed to collapse under his feet as Dean looked for a way out. The truth is, he didn’t know how to do it without breaking everything around him. His days passed one after the other in a sickly similarity: work, eat, reassure, start again. He no longer had his stupid little brother to listen to his stories, no one to share his Friday night evenings with and who would be there to support him in any situation. He had his friends left, but, honestly, no one could understand him like Sam did for 23 years.

An umpteenth sigh passed through the barrier of his lips when a rock-like music rose out of his pocket. Already worried that it was still his mother, Dean took out his cell phone. Unknown number. He raised an eyebrow and picked up.

"Hello?" He said in a hoarse voice.

The line remained silent and Dean frowned. He could hear a breath at the other end of the line, so he tried again.

"Hello?"

"Oh, uh, yes! Hello, sir, uh, Dean?" An uncertain voice immediately answered with a short breath and tangled words.

Dean raised an eyebrow. Had he given his phone number to anyone recently? Not to his knowledge in any case, he very rarely went outside the garage in which he worked. Curious, Dean turned into a quiet street to concentrate on his interlocutor.

"Who am I speaking with?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm.

The man on the other side of the phone seemed to take a breath before resuming in an equally nervous tone.

"I’m sorry, we don’t really know each other. I am aware that my call may be unwelcome, in fact I hesitated for a long time before contacting you." The man stuttered.

Dean sighed.

"Well, listen, if it’s to sell me something then I’m not interested, thank you."

"No!" The man quickly added. "No, I don’t want to sell you anything. I…" Another inspiration."My name is Castiel Novak. I live in Waterloo. I know this is going to sound weird, but… I received your brother Samuel’s heart."

Dean remained silent for a long time, trying to assimilate each of the words he had just heard. At the sound of Sam’s name, he thought he was dying a bit more. A kind of thud rose in his ears, so that he thought he had fallen into a pool while he was not paying attention to his steps. Besides, Dean wasn’t even sure where he was, now standing still in the middle of the street. Only a deep and sizzling voice gradually emerged from his torpor.

"I am sorry." Castiel went on after a long silence. "I’ve taken the liberty of contacting you, but I can assure you that I don’t want to cause you any more trouble than that." He seemed to be searching for his words for a moment." I know I could never thank Samuel for his gesture, but... your brother saved my life. I just wanted to let you know how grateful I was, even though I couldn’t replace what you lost. If there’s anything I can do to help, it would be my pleasure. However, I also understand that you would never want to hear from me again... But I can assure you that I will take care of his heart. Samuel really did a lot of good in my life and with my loved ones." 

Castiel started to mutter, as if he was suddenly deeply embarrassed by this phone call. Dean was convinced that he had to send back the image of a man ravaged by grief right now, his arms swaying and his gaze lost.

"Sam." He finally replied in a trembling voice. Dean took the time to clear his throat before continuing. "He preferred to be called Sam."

"Okay." Castiel said after another moment of hesitation. "Well… Sam really is a hero to me, Dean, I wanted you to know that."

Dean nodded stupidly, no matter how Castiel couldn’t see him. He felt that the sky had just fallen on his head, he felt completely disoriented. Of course Sammy was a hero, the rest of humanity didn’t even know how lucky they were to be around him. Dean knew that Sam had donated his organs, he had even given everything he could, because he was like that. But knowing that the heart was beating in someone else’s body, giving them a chance to continue to live and breathe… It was something he hadn’t really thought about until then.

"I’m going to leave you, I’m sorry I interfered in your life like this." Castiel apologized again. "I will not call this number again, I promise. I hope everything will be all right for your family, sincerely."

Dean’s heart skipped a beat and his muscles began to move, pushing him to almost scream on the phone.

"No, wait!" Realizing that Castiel had still not hung up, Dean quieted down, a shiver in his voice. "I don’t even know how you found this number, but… Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re from Waterloo? Iowa?

"Yes." Castiel said. "I’m about a two-hour drive from Des Moines. I don’t know if you live nearby, but-

"Des Moines, yeah." Dean replied, stunned. How did this guy know so much about Sam, he thought that the organ donation was anonymous? "Would you be available to meet in the week?"

An umpteenth silence answered his question and, frankly, Dean himself did not know why he had asked it. Maybe he was holding on to a ghost, a hopeless, senseless hope of finding something that once belonged to Sam. But what else did he have to lose now?

"… Are you going to punch me in the face if I say yes?" Castiel asked with distrust.

Surprisingly, it snatched a small laugh from Dean who barely recognized the sound of his voice. He hadn’t laughed that easily in weeks now.

"No." He answered. "I just want to talk, if that’s okay?"

He didn’t know what to think of this situation, it was too surreal. Was he angry with this man? No, not really. Sad? Maybe, but nothing new. Curious? Certainly. There were so many questions that now turned in his mind, almost stunning him. Never before had he heard a similar story and, yes, he was driven to the unknown by the despair of that mourn which he had never ended. But to hell with it, he needed to feel Sam’s heart beating against his hand again.

"Okay, I’d love to, then. What’s your schedule?"

Dean felt a piece of his soul warming up.

* * *

January

Their first encounter had definitely been strange and completely atypical. They had arranged to meet in a café halfway between their two cities, and despite a tense start, Dean and Castiel had talking much of the afternoon. Dean had been biting his tongue all along so he wouldn’t ask the fateful question of "excuse me, can we stop talking so I can put my hand against your heart?". But Castiel had finally come to the point by asking him if he could tell him about Sam and things had been done naturally. It was as if someone had opened the floodgates and quickly, Dean was unable to stop the incessant flow of words about his little brother. He told him the most important thing, from his childhood memories to that weird tic that Sam had every time he was upset.

Castiel had then smiled softly at each of his anecdotes and, when Dean had finally been allowed to feel this pulsating heart against his hand, Castiel had not moved. Dean was almost certain that he had let slip a strangled exclamation, but Castiel had just contented himself with that sweet and understanding look. At the end of their appointment, they had agreed to meet again. They both needed it.

The month of February began on another encounter at the park this time, at Des Moines. The winter was still rough and persistent this year, so they had decided to go and enjoy a hot chocolate near the pond. Dean hadn’t told his parents about it, not yet, but this meeting with Castiel did him as much good as the first. When he returned home, he found himself feeling much lighter than before.

They did not wait until the following month to meet again, and their third meeting took place in Waterloo this time. Castiel had invited him to dinner at a restaurant he called "the best in town" and Dean could not possibly say no to the prospect of a good meal.

March hosted their first meeting in a private place. Dean had taken care to clean up the mess from top to bottom before Castiel rang his doorbell and, seeing the huge bouquet of flowers that his friend had brought him, an easy smile spread over his face. Easy. It was the right word to define Castiel. Everything was easy with him, obvious and sweet. He never judged him, no matter what topic of conversation he decided to share with him. Castiel listened and supported and Dean had not felt so free and understood since at least 6 months now. One evening, he even wildly wondered if Sam’s heart had not completely taken possession of Castiel to make him this radiant and exceptional person. Until then, Dean had never known anyone but his brother who could read him like an open book.

In April and several appointments later, however, Dean understood that it was not really a fraternal connection he shared with Castiel. He learned to dwell more on the looks and gestures exchanged. Everything was crazy, insane, but once again, everything had always been crazy between them, and this from the first day.

May marked the beginning of a mental breakdown for Dean. He was definitely falling in love with his now best friend and that terrified him. What if he was wrong? What if the fear of losing sight of the only thing that still connected him to his deceased brother led him to feel faked feelings for Castiel? He had no right to be wrong here, he could not make his friend suffer, for he was too stubborn and miserable to properly analyze his own feelings. His cowardice pushed him away from Castiel — "to avoid making him suffer," he said — and the deep despair that this created in each of them was almost as hard as a second mourning. Almost.

Despite his best efforts not to hurt his best friend, June began with a considerable argument. Castiel felt rightfully unfairly rejected, and Dean could not bring himself to pronounce the words that burned his throat. However, neither of them expressed themselves more when Castiel, after a final overwhelming exclamation, brutally kissed Dean’s lips. The latter greeted him with a sob before deepening their kiss. No, Dean did not only love that beating heart in his chest… He had fallen in love with so much more.

July and August passed at an alarming speed as each of the two men discovered another facet of the other. Castiel had met Dean’s parents and Dean had not seen his mother so happy for a long time now. However, the one-year date of Sam’s accident was fast approaching and Dean could not ignore the weight it added to his shoulders. Little by little, Sam’s heart had become Castiel’s one in his eyes and his boyfriend was gradually filling the void that he felt deep inside him, but this dammed month of September was now taunting him every day on the calendar.

"Would you like to put your head against my chest?" Castiel once proposed as they both prepare to go to bed.

Dean froze, air jammed in his lungs.

"What?" He asked, stunned. He wasn’t sure if he heard correctly.

Castiel smiled softly, as always, before taking his hand in his.

"Just tonight." He replied, as if that explains everything.

And without really understanding how, Dean nodded and lay down with Castiel. Docilely, he had let his companion draw him to himself until his ear rested against the scar of his chest. Some breathing later, Dean was able to discern the beats under the mutilated skin and the world stopped spinning. He remained there for hours, his eyes open but lost in nostalgia and stifling emotion. He was alive and well, determined not to disappear. Not this time. When Dean began to cry silently, Castiel simply hugged him harder to comfort him, without a word. This was so precious to him. It quickly became their favorite position, Dean kissing the scar whenever he could.

September passed by in a bitter sweet atmosphere that neither Dean nor Castiel regretted sharing together. One evening in October, bundled up under the duvet to fight off a new winter, Dean could not take his eyes off the blue gaze smiling back. He thought of what his last months had been, what he had lost, but also what he had found. In front of him, Castiel squeezed the hand on his chest while breathing the same warm air as his partner. Their heart rate was calm and painless.

"I love you." Dean huffed at the bend of another tender smile.

At his words, Dean felt Castiel’s heart miss a beat under his palm and maybe, just maybe, was this the way his brother told him how happy he was for him.

* * * @winchester-reload

I hope you enjoyed it! I would really like to develop other moments like their first meeting or the evolution of their friendship until they become a couple. However, I had only one day to write and I had to make choices :). I am proud of this work but also rather doubtful of the final result so, if you liked it, please take the time to leave me a quick review in the comments. It would mean a lot to me. Thanks again for reading to the end, see you tomorrow!

You can find the whole series on Ao3

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[vegalocity]

Tell no tales (Red Groom AU)

I debated for awhile about whether to make the Miracle Max segment its own part or not, and then figured 'eh may as well for tonal consistency' this is the act 2 darkest hour one may call it because...

...well you've seen the princess bride you know how this story goes once Westley's in the dungeon

TW: Suicide mention, Death

Red Son's knuckles were turning purple.

He didn't know how many times the bands had tightened around his wrists, restraining his magic further and slowly cutting off the bloodflow, but he could barely move them, and the slightest twitch brought pain.

“Ahhh beloved.” He glanced up and glared with as much venom as he could muster at the prince on the other side of the cage. “The time has come for you to make me the happiest man in this mountain!” The prince reached forward Seemingly to try and stroke Red Son's face, and perhaps if Red Son hadn't already been down in this cell, powerless and slowly growing more and more pained, he would have tried to play along in attempt to remove his restraints, but as it was, he was full of nothing but contempt and rage for the prince, his only thoguth was to lash out. So as the Prince's hand neared his face Red Son snapped his teeth, the threat to bite as clear as possible. The Prince pulled his hand back and huffed.

“Still so stubborn. Well Beloved, It saddens me to realize that your selfish stubbornness has forced my hand so, but all the same my hand has been forced. We must be quick before my father passes, his curse is getting worse and the healers have yet to heal him.”

“You cursed him yourself didn't you? Kin slaying garbage.” He hissed back, and the Prince at least had the good sense to not keep up the act. He rolled his eyes.

“Honestly, Macaque was right about you. Far too hotheaded to be of any use.”

“Why haven't you killed me already then?”

“You're going to need to be my husband before you're more useful dead.”

“You think I'd be consenting to a wedding at this point?”

“You don't need to. You know the old time customs as well as I do. And since you're not here by choice then wouldn't that mean-?”

“You think my parents wouldn't notice the change in circumstance? They're not stupid, you worm.”

“Oh of course not, but that doesn't mean anything when marrying you off means they don't have to deal with you anymore.”

“...Excuse me?”

“I mean, It makes sense doesn't it? Weren't you their only child? Why did they marry you off to another demon king-to-be instead of keeping you to inherit your father's position? Especially when they didn't even have much to gain from allyship with us?” The Prince laughed, a bitter, cruel sounding thing. “Your parents wanted rid of you once it became obvious what a weakhearted fool you always were, Red Son. They basically told my mother 'we will pay YOU to take him' when they arranged our betrothal, And once you're gone no doubt they'll only care as much as the blow to their image it will be that you died so quickly. 'Our poor useless boy didn't even have the time to pretend to TRY to be a good husband he could have at least saved us the trouble and taken his own life before we'd wasted so many resources on sending him over there.'”

Red Son snarled at the arrogance dripping from the prince's words. He knew his parents had grown rather short with him near the end, but that was in part due to his own stubbornness, not simple callousness.

“Not everyone is as heartless as you, scum.” Sure his family wasn't the warmest, but that didn't change that when he was at his lowest both his mother and father had been at his back. Though it was vindicating to know his continued dismissals of his suitors before the option was taken from him was the right course of action, it's not like he didn't know that his parents wanted what they believed was best for him.

They honestly thought that he needed to move on, they didn't know Xiaotian was still out there, they thought he was clinging to the memory of a dead man, and for a long time there he thought he was too.

Besides... If he had his days right he still has about a week before the ceremony and-

“It doesn't matter. My love will be coming for me.”

The Prince's face twisted in a scowl. “Your 'Love' couldn't stop a wedding in a few short hours time! I was merely visiting you as a courtesy 'beloved'. Maybe no one told you, but we will be wed tonight-” the Prince turned on his heel and snapped his fingers and a small gaggle of servants rushed in carrying bathing tools and finery. Before Red Son could make a break for it the cuffs straining his hands shuddered and forced his hands together. Though he could barely feel the motion until it was complete.

“He'll know that this wasn't my choice. And I'm not so easy to kill.” Red Son hissed with as much venom as he could muster into his voice. “My Xiaotian will return for me, and it'll be YOUR head I have on a spike while waiting for him, mark my words.”

The Prince turned on his heel and marched away. “Your Xiaotian will be dead on the 'morrow and so will you husband.”

Red Son would like to see him try.

–

“Ah, my prince, what a pleasant surprise. Shouldn't you be preparing for the wedding-?”

“Plans changed Macaque. I know you've had fun with him but I want this man dead. Now.”

“Bro, Bro we gotta get out of here!”

“Master Six Eared Macaque, My brother and I will be taking our lunch now 'Kay Thanks Byyyyeeeee”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Yes. I cannot afford to have my 'Husband' still counting on this helpless slab of meat to be able to stop things or he'll put up a fight I cannot afford to chance loosing! End him!”

“My prince the machine is very delicate-!”

The Prince cranked the machines settings as high as they would go.

A scream echoed through the air so loud that the heavenly court above took note for only a moment, a wave of pity from all whom heard the torment and agony was offered to the poor soul who uttered such a ravaged note.

Red Son looked up from where he'd been struggling against the servant trying to force him into his marital robes, a primal fear as he instinctively recognized the voice springing his fire forth and scalding himself as his restraints blasted his magic back onto him once more.

It couldn't be. As that was the cry of a dying man.

And he knew better than to doubt Xiaotian ever again.

If he could convince his heart to stop pounding that would be nice.

–

The Pit of Despair was spoken of only in rumor among the guards, so Sandy had heard of it briefly in his workings on the hastily assembled brute squad. Therefore after caring for Xiaojiao until she'd once again reached sobriety, he told her all he knew.

“-The only problem is, if the Monkey King really is this love of Prince Red Son's, the Pit of Despair is hidden from all eyes.” Sandy mused as he and his friend wandered through the forest. “It's said only the prince, and his adviser: Your enemy, know of its whereabouts.”

“Well there has to be SOMETHING we can work with!”

Then, much like Red Son surrounded by enemies in the mountain, they heard the scream.

“That way.” Xiaojiao uttered after a pause. “Follow the scream.”

“You can be sure it was the Monkey King?”

“Sandy my friend, that wasn't any scream of pain.” Xjaojiao stopped only for a moment to place a hand on his shoulder. “That was a cry of true agony. I felt it in my heart ten years ago watching my father bleed out, and I remember it's timbre. His true love is being forced to marry a cruel prince who intends on murdering him after the fact. If anyone knows true agony on this day, it's the Monkey King.”

“Do we really need him to find the Six Eared Macaque, you think?”

“Think about it Sandy, he outplayed me; blade versus staff, he subdued you despite your attempts to stall, and he must have outsmarted the Spider Queen, if there's anyone who can get us into that mountain it's the Monkey King.”

But their conversation was cut off as a pair of urgent whispering voices made themselves known.

“Ohhhh man, I heard that, that's gonna haunt me forever. Boss just totally killed that guy.”

“We all heard it Jin. I'm pretty sure the heavenly court heard it. Come on, brother you're going to be fine.”

“Don't just say stuff like that Yin it just invites disaster!”

“Jin, bro, I need you to be real with me, like one hundred percent real.” only then the two voices curved from behind a tree, a wheelbarrow carried between them. “Do you not have the stomach for this anymore? If you don't, we can leave. We can find work elsewhere, I don't think Mother would begrudge us for taking a little break-”

“I'm FINE Yin. Don't be so dramatic I'm not a sissy-!” The golden demon trailed off with a yelp as Xiaojiao grabbed him by his front.

“You know where they are? The man that screamed do you two know his location?” She unsheathed her sword just a bit, just enough to make the threat present. But just as the silver demon moved to try and throw her off of his brother Sandy stepped in and placed a large, iron gripped hand on either of their shoulders, pulling the gold one free from Xiaojiao's grip but keeping him just as immobile as his brother was now.

“Settle down, we're just tryin' to find our friend.”

“Haven't the foggiest idea what you guys are talking about.” The Silver demon tried.

“Indeed!” The Gold demon concurred. “Never seen any secret tunnels coming out of trees around here!”

Sandy raised his brow and Xiaojiao shared his look as the Gold demon seemed to realize he'd said too much.

“Well! It was nice talking to you both good luck in finding your friend!” he chirped, struggling to get himself free from Sandy's grip.

“And don't try to bother us further because we know nothing-” The Silver demon continued. Xiaojiao unsheathed her sword and held the very tip to the gold one's chin, tilting his head to meet her eye.

“In a funny turn of events something tells me you two know what we're looking for. Talk.”

“...Anyone ever tell you you have beautiful eyes, madame?”

The silver one groaned, and didn't even look particularly startled as Xiaojiao reeled back and knocked his brother out with the pommel of her sword.

Sandy scrambled to catch the gold demon as he slumped over, and though he had to let go of the Silver demon to do so Xiaojiao kept him from moving by turning her sword to him instead.

“You got any better ideas to cover your ass than flirting with the woman with a sword to you?”

“Uhhh Nope. Honestly I hate working here anyway. The secret passage is about a five minutes walk from here in thaaaat direction.” He pointed behind them. “Straight too, no turns, the tree is the one with all the knots. The Prince wanted Boss' workshop to be far enough from the mountain's base so he'd have distance for his 'experiments' to get loud without alerting anyone.”

“You're a fountain of wisdom. Take your brother and find some better work.”

The Silver demon did just that, and once they'd both vanished in the treeline she and Sandy exchanged a glance and nodded.

Five minutes was generous an estimate of course, and implied quite a lot about the lackadaisical pace the brothers usually kept as Xiaojiao and Sandy found the grove described to them within three. However, the Silver demon had neglected to mention a very important detail: There were many trees with many knots in the grove and it would be impossible to determine which of them was 'The' tree without searching every knot on every tree. Which could easily take hours that they did not have.

Just as Sandy was pondering over the quickest way to solve this conundrum he'd turned to see his friend in a very peculiar position, dropped onto a knee with the Jade sword held upright toward the sky.

“Xiaojiao?”

“I need a moment Sandy.” She stated calmly, her eyes shut and she took a deep breath.

“My family had a river of our own. When I was a girl I couldn't get to sleep without the gentle rush of the stream in my ears. I haven't slept a full night since the day I was expelled from my home. Every night as I settle down my ears strain for the familiar rush. My mother once said that I had an ear for the river's flow, and every night that was proven to be a curse as well as a gift.” Xiaojiao stood, her sword now held in both hands again, eyes still shut.

“There's water flowing near here.” she stated, voice barely over a whisper. “I can hear it.”

Sandy was quite literally a fish demon and even HE didn't have a sense for water like that. Nonetheless He found himself impressed with his friend all over again as she began to tilt her sword this way and that, as though it were helping her detect the source of the noise.

“I can hear it-” Xioajao whispered again before the tip of her sword embedded itself in a particular tree. She didn't open her eyes, merely placed a hand on the trunk and leaned in until her ear was pressed to the tree.

There was silence and then Xiaojiao smiled.

“It's this one. Sandy my friend, help me find the knot.” she quickly sheathed her sword and began to try as many knobs on the tree that were in her reach as possible.

It was only luck that the first knot Sandy tried gave way beneath his hand and with a small 'click' a hollow panel on the side of the tree swung open, revealing a staircase descending below.

Xiaojiao shot him a bright grin and Sandy grinned back bashfully, but before they could trade witty banter his friend's eagerness to finally reach her goal implored her to descend down the stairs. It was a bit of a Squeeze for Sandy but he was able to make his way down a few paces behind her.

And... Well the Pit of Despair was about what he'd expected. A dank dungeon like place, ornate lamps lighting the room trying to pretend there was a level of class present in the torture chamber, a huge water wheel was perched in the corner, heartily chugging away but no Six Eared Macaque for Xiaojiao to face.

There was however a figure strapped to a table beside the water wheel. Xiaojiao was quickly ensuring the three of them were alone but Sandy rushed to the strapped figure's side and-...

He was human. He was wearing the same clothes he remembered the Monkey King wearing, and his hair was the same shade of dark brown as he'd remembered the Monkey King sporting, but there were no simian features and no tail.

And he wasn't breathing.

--

“What?! Xiaotian dies!?”

“Well The prince had the machine turned up all the way, remember?”

“Well then who KILLS the prince? Is it Red Son? Xiaojiao?”

“Nobody. The Prince lives.”

“SO HE WINS?! That's not right who would write a story like that!?”

“You know- we should probably stop here, you're getting too heated, and you're sick, I don't want my own kid glaring at me because I made my grandbaby feel worse.”

“No! No! I'll be good I promise! I won't interrupt anymore I need to know how it ends!”

“You sure?”

“I'm sure! Grandpa Pleeeaaasseeeee?”

“Alright, if you're sure.”

“I am!”

“Well then....'Xiaojiao came to find Sandy quickly and examined the body on the table herself, a quick pass over with her eyes, and finding the same tells He did quickly enough.-

--

“He wasn't really the Monkey King...” she breathed. “A body double or something- How'd he learn to shapeshift like that?”

“He was mortal. Poor guy.” Sandy sighed and placed a large hand over the still chest.

Sandy held a moment of silence to try and give the dead man a moment's respect, but Xiaojiao had other plans, Her only shot at finally finding the Six Eared Macaque and having her revenge and he was dead on a slab. She shouted and kicked at the water wheel until one of the spokes cracked beneath her rage.

Then something occurred to Sandy.

“We have to get outta here.”

“Why?! Where are we going?!” Xiaojiao shouted, still lost in her anger. “It's not like we've got anything we're doing that's FEASABLE ANYMORE!” She kicked another wheel spike.

“Don't give up just yet, my friend.” Sandy huffed as he looked the body over once more looking for any lingering damages, and finding none he hefted it over his shoulder. “There's this guy back in the village, While I was on he brute squad, and you know, they thought I was actually gonna fight, they said not to worry about 'going too hard' because this guy can heal just about anything.”

“He's already dead Sandy-”

“Better than nothing.”

After a moment's pause, Xiaojiao shrugged and followed behind him.

“-Oh, you still got much money left after your bender?”

“Not much, why?”

“Sandy how much does this guy charge?”

“SANDY??”

[spaceiplier]

SPACEIPLIER: Carry On

It was impossibly cold.

Mark hadn’t stopped feeling cold. Not since seeing Sean. Not since stepping foot into his ship. A sense of heart wrenching familiarity but stark shock at seeing how different everything was. Like coming home to find your parents had turned your bedroom into a study. Or a storage room.

Or a landfill.

The ship was a mess. Obvious signs of raids and attacks littered the walls. Dried blood, torn metal, sparking wires. Trash was piled in heaps in the hallways. Nudged aside to be dealt with never again. It was obvious that Sean had given up. He didn’t care anymore. It was just day after day.

Sean had muttered some apology about the mess, kicking a few boxes out of the way on their way inwards.

“Where are the robots?” Mark had asked.

“Powered down,” Sean responded. “They were getting in my way.”

They’d walked down the halls without another word. Walked until they reached a room that was surprisingly clean. Sean had left with him with a mumble of getting food, letting the door shut behind him as Mark stood there.

And he was still there. Hugging a blanket around him as he sat on the bed, staring at the opposing wall.

Mark had died and came back. The government was hunting down everyone like him to tear apart and discover immortality. The universe thought he was gone, and it continued on with its daily lives. Those in power continued to ruin lives to continue theirs. Those he loved were locked away for good. Those who didn’t know any better lived on, unaware that the lives they lived were founded in blood.

It was a strange sensation to know so much after a life of knowing so little.

Nobody talked about the quiet moments. There was so much empty space between trauma and… well… whatever came next. There were too many moments. Those quiet thoughts that grew and grew in the emptiness. The silence feeding them, letting them grow. The quiet moments were so long. They filled so much more of his story than the loud ones did

Mark would rather take the loud. Let it fill up so that he didn’t think about the memory of a needle in his arm and the lines down his back.

Loud.

Loud.

Please somebody, be loud.

But all that was loud was the thoughts, and thoughts only cared for the memory of death and the fear of life. 

It seemed so long before Sean reappeared in the doorway, but it was probably only minutes. He held some re-hydrated food, handing it over to Mark who cupped it in his shivering hands. 

“Are you okay?”

“Just cold.”

The food tasted like cardboard. It was better than nothing. 

“I wanted to ask you,” Sean started, leaning against the opposite wall from where Mark sat. He looked a little better than before. Haggard and tired, but the air of despair was gone. “You said Dark has Google. He’s using him.”

“I don’t know what for,” Mark said around the food in his mouth. “I only saw a glimpse, but it was like he’d taken what you’d made and then dialed it up to 1000.”

“That’s dangerous,” Sean said. “Google was already rampant. I was stupid back then, not putting in failsafe’s when his programming to learn would progress farther than it should. If Dark is giving him the ability to learn whatever he wants… letting him access every server he can worm into… fuck, Dark has every program and database at the tip of his fingers. He could bring down everything if he wanted too. Release all the information, or destroy it.”

“He has access to every server holding every piece of information with the Xanhull’s on it,” Mark said, realization slowly setting in. “He knows exactly how they tore his world apart.”

Memories of watching a world choke and die burned in Mark’s mind. Memories of holding the bodies… of them catching Dark… of them prying his chest apart while he hoped beyond hope that they’d just kill him… all Mark had were fragments. Madapriel had everything, and now he had proof. 

“He’s going to destroy them.”

“What exactly did he have Google hooked up to?” Sean asked. “I don’t know a lot, but I know enough. We need to know how he was amplifying Google.”

“I don’t know. Some machine, and there were cables attaching the two. Like I said, I didn’t get a good look and what I did see was just… horrifying.”

Sean groaned, hands raking his hair. “God, Mark… we were just two nobodies just a few years ago. What happened?”

“I went to Earth,” Mark said, looking down at his hands. His clean hands. “And Madapriel came back.”

For a moment there was silence. Just the two of them thinking back on those years long gone when they were just friends. It was just games then. Play the game of life and everything will work out somehow. 

Now it was corrupt and breaking.

“Where is Chica? And Henry?” Mark finally asked, filling the silence that was growing too thick.

“With a niner family,” Sean said. “I check up on them every once in a while but… I don’t know. It just hurt. Chica wouldn’t stop sitting by the door. Henry kept… Henry kept asking when Amy was coming back.”

Mark felt something already broken break a little more in his chest.

“We’re going that way now,” Sean said. “To the niners. Felix has been coming up with some big plan to break into the prison. It’s not going well but… hey, maybe with you back things will be different. You always were the one with the plan.”

“Mark knows best,” Mark laughed quietly, thinking back to missions with his crew where sometimes all they had was trust that Mark would get them home in one piece.

Look where that had gotten them.

“Get some sleep,” Sean said, taking the empty dish from Marks hands and walking out the door. “You’re going to need it.”

.

.

“Lights on. Get up.”

Amy stared at the ceiling, hands behind her head, lying on the thin prison bed. She hadn’t slept well that night. She hadn’t slept well for a year. 

It was little things that kept her awake. There was no fear of nightmares because she didn’t have any. She never remembered them. It was just the details. The lack of warmth beside her, and the silence where there used to be breathing. Those details that took away any safety she’d felt sleeping here.

And then there were the thoughts.

Twenty prisoners on her floor. All non-lethal. One guard at all times at the end of the hall. Two patrols per day. Free time for six hours. Meal time twice a day. Yard time if they earned it, and work duties if they earned it. Three guard stations between her and Kathryn. Six between her and Ethan. Eight between her and Tyler. Random searches at least twice a month. Tracking devices on the bracelet they all wore, but it only made sure they stayed within the building. Jobs heavily supervised. Three guards in each work room at all times. Always watching.

Amy was watching too.

The guard, greeting each prisoner, came by her room again. They tapped the bars, drawing Amy’s eyes.

“Get up. Breakfast in ten.”

Amy nodded, and the guard walked off. Sitting up with a sigh, Amy looked over at the wall. Etched with lines. Line after line, seemingly random in height and distance. To anyone just glancing by it looked as if Amy was counting the days. Counting to keep her sanity.

Only she knew what it really meant.

Breakfast came and went. Amy did her stretches and workout, keeping her body busy in the few hours before she’d start her work duty. She’d spent months working up to her position. Months convincing any official in this godforsaken place that she was a good, responsible prisoner. She wasn’t bad, just had a tough break with a bad boyfriend.

A bad, dead boyfriend.

She shook that thought of her head.

Mark wouldn’t want her to wallow in sadness. He’d lived his life, and he’d done his best to give a future to those who could live it. It was her job now to start where he’d left off. Keep moving and get out. 

Amy had a plan.

The hours passed and Amy finally was let out. She’d gotten a job as an errand runner. A position only awarded to those whom the prison warden trusted to be on the reform. She was stuck here for life, but they trusted her enough to walk freely enough throughout the prison. 

It had also earned her a place of trust with the prisoners.

There was more to a prison than met the eye. Deals being traded faster than liakae. Mutual promises to not stab each other in the back to get what they wanted. Amy had found herself in a position of trust, not only with the warden, but with prisoners who wanted drugs traded. Who wanted messages passed. Who wanted bandages, extra food, new jumpers, whatever Amy could get her hands on.

She was a gear ticking along perfectly to the machine running a well-oiled machine. 

The top half of her jumper tied around her waist; Amy rolled her shoulders in her tank top undershirt. Grabbing her cart, piling supplies and mail onto it, she started on her route.

It didn’t take her long to get to the person she needed to see today. The leader of the largest gang in Central Prison. 

Yancy. 

He sort of reminded Amy of Mark, in an odd way. The over the top ego. The confidence he exuded with every word. It was familiar, but at the same time so very different. Yancy was stagnant. He didn’t care about moving forwards, but only with his comfort. He cared about him and him alone.

And that was fine. Amy wasn’t one to judge. But Yancy wasn’t Mark. Not by a long shot. Just enough that Amy found herself trusting him.

“Whatsa news?” Yancy drawled, leaning against the wall, arms folded and leering at Amy as she rolled up beside him. She handed him a rolled-up towel, carefully hiding a pack of liakae. He took it. “Yous still feeling this uh little plan of yous?”

“Of course, I am,” Amy hissed, avoiding eye contact with the guard across the field. “I’ve been planning for a year. I’m going through with it.”

“Aight,” Yancy said, stuffing the towel under his arm as he stood. “Just so yous knows, that meetin with all the big shots up in Central is comin up. They be talkin about all those bigger picture things and not lookin at us little folk. Best be plannin your escapes around those big head honchos drawin all that attention if yous knows what I’m sayin.”

“Understood,” Amy answered.

“I’ll be upholdin my end of the deal,” Yancy said, eyes meeting hers for a moment that lasted far too long with far too much malice behind those glittering black eyes. “But if yous crosses me and my boys and girls, there will be hell to pay.”

“Understood,” Amy said again, meeting that malice with all of her own. Yancy smiled carelessly. He didn’t have a thing in the world to lose and he enjoyed it. Amy was the one putting her neck out there, and Yancy would enjoy seeing her keep or lose it with equal pleasure.

For a second Amy hesitated. Then, eyes darting for moment to meet Wade’s - the guard watching them across the way - she looked back at Yancy and asked, “I need a favor. Separate from the plan.”

“Oh?” Yancy raised an eyebrow.

“Tomorrow is the day that… the day that Mark died.”

“Ah,” Yancy instantly shifted his body in a way that was on the verge of being comforting, but still holding back. 

“I know it’s stupid and sentimental, but even Cosmic Criminals get a marker. I just…” Amy felt herself choking up. Taking a moment to clear her throat, she stared Yancy right in the eye, unflinching. “I want a tribute.”

“Can’t yous request that from the prison?” Yancy asked.

“Not from someone like me. Not with my record. They’ll never let me step out of this place. I need one favor, Yancy. This one thing, and then the plan, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“Fine, fine,” Yancy said. He shoved one hand into a pocket, the other rubbing the back of his neck. “I also has one of those long gone companions. I knows what that feels like, and it’s not sunshine and roses. I’ll make it happen for yous.”

“Thank you, Yancy,” Amy said. Throwing another towel at him, she stalked away. “Now don’t forget about the plan.”

“I ain’t forgettin nothing!”

Amy quickly walked away, avoiding Wade’s watchful eye. She knew he knew what she was up too. She didn’t care. 

It had been a year.

She was done caring.

.

.

The niner base was exactly as Mark remembered it. Nothing seemed to have changed in the year he’d been gone. It was oddly chilling as he and Sean walked through the city. Nobody paid him a second glance. Nobody recoiled from him like he was an unnatural abomination, brought back from something he should never have escaped from. Nobody cried, nobody smiled. 

They didn’t care.

Nobody cared when Icarus fell, and nobody cared when he broke the surface of the water. Burned and scarred. A testament of ego gone unchecked and torched with arrogance.

“We’re going to see Felix,” Sean said, tossing the key to his ship to a waiting worker. Behind them several niners began unloading the cargo. Mark shivered, and Sean sighed. “You’re so fucking skinny now, man. Here.” Hailing down a worker, Sean got him a jacket. It faintly reminded him of the long jacket he’d lost when they’d been captured by the GAAP. 

Too many bad memories. Keep walking.

Mark pulled it on, feeling better as the chill slowly left him. As they walked, he felt himself glancing over at Sean. He did look better. There was something in his eyes that had been voided. Something in the way he held his shoulders that had disappeared. It was back now, ever so faintly. That little bounce that Mark remembered in a younger pirate. 

Oh yeah, that’s what it was called.

Happiness.

It didn’t take much longer, but they soon reached the entrance to Felix’s lair. The winding staircases a pain to Mark’s struggling legs and lungs, but soon they were there. As Sean pushed them open, they were greeted by that masked man, antlers tall and hair reaching his waist. What was his name again? Sive? 

Sive nodded at them, wordlessly guiding them through the halls until they reached the office. He left them there with another slow nod. Those blank dark eyes seemed to linger on Mark. Looking him over. Looking into him. 

Mark stared back.

“Well fuck. Mark Fischbach, alive and kicking.”

Mark looked over at the open doors. Felix sat at his desk, a cocky smile on his face as Sean walked towards him. Behind him Marzia smiled much softer. Unlike their unchanging city, they had changed. The white hair was streaked with darker tones, and his beard had been cut nearly clean off. Marzia’s hair reached her jaw instead of her waist, and there was a new scar running the length of her cheekbone. They’d seen some shit, just like him.

“Who would have thought?” Mark joked, but there was a wince in his voice.

“I’ll admit, I’m pleased Lixian’s theory about your orb was correct,” Felix said. “I’m guessing that Xanhull had something to do with that.”

“Madapriel brought me back,” Mark confirmed. “He said he had a debt to me. Wanted to repay it before kicking me to the curb.”

“We’re glad he did,” Marzia said. 

“Enough of this,” Sean said, breaking through the small moment of reconnection. “We can talk about Mark’s resurrection later. We have friends in prison. We have a ticking clock until Dark, or Madapriel, whatever he wants to call himself, destroys the structure of the galaxy as we know it. There are Xanhulls being hunted down and tortured as we speak. We need to fucking move.”

“You’re correct,” Felix said, flicking on the screen Lixian’s animated form had once occupied. It filled with files, maps, graphs, and images. Each one of the prisons and the surrounding systems. “This is our concern at the moment.”

Mark walked towards it, eyes bouncing over each piece of information. At first it was a mess, but slowly Mark started putting together the pieces. A puzzle falling into place.

“You’ve been at this for a while.”

Mariza laughed, “Sean sure has. Throwing him against that prison over and over again. We’ve been planning. Gathering information. His reckless pursuit has yielded information, but we’ve been contacting inside men. Spies. Old allies, and new bribes. We’ve been calculating this one heist for a year. It’s coming together, and with you here, we might just be able to pull it off.”

“Are you kidding?” Mark gestured up at the map. “What you have here is a clusterfuck.”

“And that’s exactly what we need,” Felix said, templing his fingers. “A disaster, and many of them. There is no way into that prison that is not messy. There is no way to carefully hold onto my relations with the GAAP, while stopping their heinous actions and saving your friends. What we need is so many messes that they don’t know where one ends and where another begins.”

“You’re covering up the prison break in… with this?”

“Not just those,” Marzia responded to Mark, walking up beside him. “Those are just the ones that we could safely organize under the nose of the GAAP. There are some that we could use your help with. We aren’t exactly… trustworthy.”

“I’m a pirate,” Sean shrugged. “The only people who trust me is your stupid ass and our friends in prison.”

“And I’m a well-known dealer,” Felix said with a small smile. “I can threaten, bribe, and extort all I want. At the end of the day those only go so far. There is nothing stronger than what you have.”

“You have allies all over this galaxy,” Marzia finished off. “Your face is what comforted millions. Your actions have saved lives. If they know who you really are, they’ll trust you again. They always have. The words of a faceless government will never hold up to someone who has always helped those smaller than himself.”

“You want me to ask the people I used to help… to go batshit crazy against a government they have trusted for hundreds of years.”

“To put it bluntly,” Sean said. “Yeah.”

Mark looked up at the plans. It was crazy. It was insane. 

It might just work. 

“Alright,” Mark said. “Where are we starting?”

.

.

He had an hour before they were taking off for GGPS. Mark didn’t know exactly what it was, but Sean mentioned it was where he used to pick up smuggling jobs. An underbelly merc joint. Somewhere known widely throughout the likes of pirates and criminals. Though a smaller operation, Sean talked about it with found familiarity. 

He’d almost stuck up a story about the place before taking one look at Marks face and shutting down.

Mark had left quickly. 

There was one place in the niner base that Mark needed to visit. Felix had given him directions, and Mark found himself winding through the small city with steps that barely touched the ground. Rushing past species from every reach of the galaxy. Flying past them without another glance. 

It had been too fucking long since he’d seen his dog. 

Reaching the house, Mark burst inside. An elderly Nelidi woman shrieked, but Mark ignored her as a ball of green goop flew into his arms. Her whines and barks music to his ears. She twisted in his arms as he fell to his knees, trying to lick his face. Trying to run in circles around him but Mark just hugged her.

“Chica,” Mark sobbed. Fuck. She recognized him. She knew it was him. 

Chica whined, flopping over into his lap as he hugged her. She didn’t know why he was crying. All she knew was that her dad was back and he was crying, the tears sliding right off her goop.

“Y-you must be Mr. Fischbach,” the woman said. 

Mark looked up, barely seeing the woman through blurry tearfilled eyes. He wiped them. “Yeah. Sorry, I… I just…”

“I understand,” she said, still clutching her chest. “Just warn a lady, would you!”

A face appeared behind her legs. The long snout and nervous eyes of Henry, watching him. 

“Mom Amy?”

Mark’s heart broke again. Chica jumped out of his arms, running over to Henry, and then back to Mark. Trying to convey to him that her dad was back, but Henry just watched. Mark reached out his hand.

“It’s me, Henry. It’s Mark. Remember? Smelly Mark?”

Henry hesitantly stepped forwards. His nose inches away from his hand. 

“Not Smelly Mark. Doesn’t smell like Smelly Mark.”

“It’s me,” Mark said again. The tears spilling again. He needed Henry to know it was him. He fucking needed this dog - the only connection he had left to Amy, and one of the only real creatures left in this universe he loved - to know that it was him. It was breaking his heart to see Henry stare at him with that same distrust from all those years ago.

“Smelly Mark gone,” Henry said. “Mom Amy gone too. They didn’t come back for Happy Chica. They didn’t come back for Henry.”

“I’m back now,” Mark said. “And I’m never leaving you again.”

Henry cocked his head, taking one more step forwards. Sniffing his hand one last time. Mark held his breath as Henry nuzzled his fingers. 

“Not Smelly Mark,” Henry’s collar beeped. Just as Mark felt his heart shatter in a place that could never be repaired, Henry said: “Amy’s Mark.”

And with that, Henry pushed his head into Marks chest. Chica bounced up behind him, tongue out and wagging her tail furiously as she butted her way into Mark’s chest as well. He hugged them, trying to catch his breath as he cried. 

They knew him.

He still had his dogs. 

“Amy’s Mark going to bring back Mom Amy?”

“Yes,” Mark said into Henry’s fur. “I’m bringing her back.”

“Good,” Henry beeped. “Henry trusts Amy’s Mark.”

.

.

The ship was quiet.

Mark stepped aboard, a hood flipped up and a mask covering everything from the nose down, exposing only the red eyes that carefully watched each and every patron watching him. He and Sean had agreed that Mark’s identity was a secret best kept for now. The universe thought he was dead. Ghosts changed things unknown and unseen. In front stepped Sean, much more casually presented. Sam zipped around his head. Sean limped slightly; Mark noticed.

When had that started?

“Jack!” A booming voice exclaimed. Mark’s fingers clutched slightly tighter around the gun hidden underneath his cloak. They relaxed only slightly when he saw the jovial face of the owner of the establishment. Arin Hansen, arms outstretched as he walked forwards. A barrel of a man with a long blond streak down his hair. Human, like Amy. 

Mark blinked. When had he stopped thinking of himself as human? He was still human. Just not… completely. 

“Arin,” Sean greeted, accepting the handshake. “It’s been a while.”

“Eighteen months,” Arin said. “That infiltration thing, right? Hope that equipment came in handy.”

“It did,” Sean confirmed. “I found everything.” Sean’s eyes briefly met Marks. “But we’re here for some hired help. Have a certain place we’re going to need to get into.”

“Of course,” Arin gestured to the ship. “What’s mine is yours.”

And what was his wasn’t much. It felt empty. Tables were scattered about in strategically placed locations, attached to the floor along with the chairs around them. There were a few raised and lowered areas. A few poles. The smell of cleaning solution as little robots skittered around. An empty dj booth sat at the far end of the room, and the entire place was lit with dull purple lighting. This wasn’t the normal hours of operation. Only a few pirates sat about in various stages of day drinking. 

Nobody who they needed. 

“So, what kind of people are you two looking for?” Arin asked, walking with them towards the bar. His eyes looked Mark up and down before walking around the bar, picking up two glasses. Mark shook his head and held up his hand, but Sean accepted the drink. 

“A hacker, first of all,” Sean said. “Someone good at getting into a system.”

“Not you?” Arin asked.

“Someone better,” Sean said. “I’m good at getting into where I’m not supposed to be. I need someone who can get in and not get found.”

“We’ve got quite the array of hackers,” Arin said. “But uh… most have gone underground. Ever since that incident a year ago… you know…”

“Wait, what happened?” Mark asked. Arin looked at him quizzically.

“He was out on the outer rim for the past couple months,” Sean quickly covered up. “Didn’t get much news way out there.”

Arin watched him suspiciously for a moment more. “Twelve months ago Mark Fischbach was publicly executed. Nobody knew how, but moments afterwards many of the high members of the GLE and GAAP council members were executed. Their deaths led to a wave of enforcement. New council members stepped up and cracked down on the underworld. But not even the underworld. People started disappearing. Whole worlds are under heavy watch. The galaxy changed once Mark Fischbach died. It was such a small moment in the universe, but it changed things.”

His hand came up to tiredly rub his face. “Many of us knew who Fischbach was, even if we’d never met. He was someone who honestly tried to do good, and sometimes that’s all you need. It was hope for a better future. Someone who made others want to be better. And then he was gone, and along with that absence came fear.”

“It’s not just us lowlifes,” Sean said, meeting Mark’s eyes. “The GAAP is hurting everyone now. They got rid of Mark, and now they are going to get rid of anyone who stands in their way.”

Mark’s heart grew cold, and his hands burned. 

“Who are you, friend?” Arin asked. “Not that I don’t trust Jack, but I haven’t seen your eyes around these parts.”

“I’m uh,” Mark floundered. “Bum.”

“Bum?”

“Friends call me BumBum.”

“Uh huh,” Arin said, staring into Mark’s eyes. For a moment Mark was certain he’d call him on his bluff, but then he was somber again, refilling his own glass and downing it. “Anyways, hired help has been a bit sparse these days. Not many want to stick their necks out when the GAAP is so stringent.”

There was a loud BAM as the door slammed open. Mark looked over to see a woman standing there, eyes darting about. She was breathing heavily, her hair tied back. She was Velm. Wearing baggy clothing with a large gun slung on her back, she hastily marched towards Arin. Mark noticed as she came closer that her eyes different shades of yellow. Curled around her neck was a small furry creature that hissed when Mark looked at it.

“They’re coming,” the woman said. Glancing over, she flashed her teeth at Sean and Mark. “Oh, hi.”

“H-hi,” Sean said. “Who is coming?”

“GLE,” she responded. 

“Fuck,” Mark said, hands now burning. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I see you also don’t want to be on their radar,” the woman said as Arin ran for the backroom. The lights turned from purple to red. Sean winced. 

“You have no idea,” Mark muttered. 

The few patrons jumped to their feet. Drunkenness be damned, their lives were on the line. A few ran to backrooms, returning with weapons. A few disappeared entirely, only for the roar of a spacecraft leaving to be heard. The woman swung her own giant gun around, facing the door. 

“I’d find some cover, if I were you.”

Mark and Sean ducked behind the bar. As the sounds of an energy gun being charged came from the woman, Mark looked over at Sean. He was shaking, and little lines of glitch were starting to creep from his eyes. 

“Hey,” Mark barked, and Sean’s eyes snapped to his. “Get it together.”

“I have everything together,” Sean said, but it wasn’t just his voice. There was another layer there. One that was serious and familiar. Another that was cruel and high pitched, delighting at the prospect of finding a foot in Sean’s mind. “We’re fine.”

“That’s fucking creepy.”

Mark jumped at the new voice. Glancing behind him, he saw an android girl. A Selachula model, with a small robot dog next to her. Eyes larger than a human and nearly completely black, a mouth full of teeth, and a tail that was more suitable for the ocean than land. Two jagged pieces jutted from her elbows, and she was dressed sensibly, if not a bit dramatically. The dog whined, covering its snout with its paws. 

“Shhh,” the girl said. “It’s okay, Spence. The weird man isn’t going to hurt you.” Grabbing a bottle, she smashed it against the floor, giving her a weapon. “You two seem new around here.”

“Grumps Party Ship wasn’t exactly dangerous the last time I stopped by,” Sean responded, ANTI’s voice absent but glitch lines remaining. 

The girl gave a short laugh. “Welcome to the new world. I’m Mika, by the way. Heard you guys got a job?”

There was no time to respond as the door was blasted open. Instantly the air was filled with the sounds of gunfire and the shouts of those charging. The woman gave off a few blasts before whipping back around the counter to find a new angle. Smoke filled the room as a stray blast hit one of the fog machines. 

“COME AND GET ME MOTHERFUCKERS!” 

With a scream, Arin burst from the backroom guns ablazing. Shouts turned to screams as the raging human tore through GLE after GLE officer. 

“Actually, yes,” Mark responded as Sean’s eye turned red. A GLE officer had reached the counter, but was met by a manic Velm. With a laugh ANTI and Sean pulled the officer over the counter. Mika’s broken bottle stabbed into the officers’ throat, and Sean pushed them back into the crowd. “We’re planning a prison breakout.”

“Which prison?” the woman with the large gun asked. Standing back up she fired a few more rounds into the crowd before ducking back down. 

“The uh Central one.”

“Are you out of your fucking gourd?” Mika asked, picking up a bottle and chucking it at a man who was just about to grab Sean. Sean whipped around and Anti slashed across his chest. “Nobody has even gotten close to breaking into that place.”

“I can do it.”

Mark looked back at the woman. She shrugged with the gun. 

“Ever heard of GGG?”

“You’re GGG?” Sean gaped at her. The woman shot a GLE officer charging up behind him. 

“Pleasure to meet you two,” she said with a hard grin. “I’m Gab. Hacker for hire. What’s the game?”

“We were uh,” Mark ducked as Mika chucked another bottle. “We came here looking for some hires. We need a hacker and any spare hands who specialize in being sneaky.”

“That would be me,” Mika said. Her mechanical skin rippled, and for a moment everything around her was blurry. It was like trying to look at a mirage. Then she was back and grinning. “I usually go for thieving jobs, but this sounds like fun. I’ve been wanting to do a good old fuck you GAAP job for a while.”

“Me as well,” Gab said, and the two girls gave a quick fist bump before separating to kill another officer. 

“YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE ME?” Arin continued to scream. “BITCH EAT MY ASS. EAT MY ENTIRE ASS. THIS IS MY HOME, ASS WAGON. FUCK YOU!”

“We can pay you twenty thousand credits,” Mark said, glass shattering above him as Sean threw an officer into the lighting on the ceiling. “Half before, half after the mission is over.”

“Thirty,” Gab said.

“Twenty.”

“Twenty-five,” Mika countered. 

Before they could react, a GLE officer had grabbed Mark. He tried to push them off, but their hand caught Mark’s mask. For a brief moment the officer saw his face, and it paled. They knew. Mark yanked the mask back up. Nobody had seen but the officer, but their mouth was open. Ready to call back to the others.

And then their throat was gone. A swipe of Sean and ANTI’s claws taking care of the problem. Those dangerous eyes met his, and ANTI snarled.

“Twenty-five,” Mark agreed. 

“Good enough for me,” Gab said. She slung her gun back around onto her back. “I’ll meet up with you guys at the Loom outside of Kell.”

“Can I catch a ride?” Mika said, picking up the robotic dog who was curled into a little ball.

“Sure. Later!”

The two girls disappeared into the smoke and lights, leaving the screams behind them. Mark and Sean shared a look. 

“Do you think Arin can handle the rest of them?” Sean asked.

“Sign up now at your local supermarket for the rewards card. It will save you ten percent on FUCKING GODDAMN BULLSHIT, FUCK!”

“Yeah, I think he’s fine,” Mark responded. 

The two quickly left the ship as Arin tore through the rest of the GLE officers, keeping up a constant rant of insanity until there were only bodies. As Mark and Sean flew far far away, Suzie kissed her husband.

“Want me to move the ship?”

“Yes, dear.”

.

.

“Hey!”

Amy stopped, looking behind her. Pushing his way through the crowd, Yancy ran towards her. She turned, crossing her arms. “Yeah?”

“I gots your tribute.”

“Oh,” Amy said. Her heart pounded in her ears, trying to sound nonchalant. As if she hadn’t been waiting for this for days. Yancy held out the slip of paper. Amy took it with trembling fingers. 

It wasn’t much. Just the slip they gave you upon entrance to help you find the marker. The graveyard stretched for miles. A record of every deceased citizen of the GAAP. Many didn’t visit. They had their own graves for their families back home. Their bodies laid to rest on their homes with those they loved. But there were also those that had nobody, and this was the only place that allowed them a sign that they lived. A place to have a name. 

Mark was that person, and Amy’s fingers could barely hold onto the slip that held the coordinates of his grave.

“Look,” Yancy said, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I knows we ain’t close, but if yous needs anything my boys and girls can get it for ya. Nothin fancy like, but yous wants a shoulder to cry on my boy Jimmy gives some good hugs.”

“Thanks Yancy,” Amy said. “I… I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” Yancy said. 

It hadn’t really seemed to hit Amy that Mark was gone. She had been used to Mark disappearing for hours and days into his own world. To Mark, his work was his life. She supported him wholeheartedly. She let him take on the universe, just as long as he let her take a piece of his. And he did as he worked and worked. Disappearing into that work and made Amy used to small moments. 

She hadn’t realized just how long this small moment had gone on. 

“Fuck,” she muttered as a tear fell. Wiping it away quickly, she smiled at Yancy. “Thank you.”

“No probs,” he shot back. He turned as if to walk away but stopped short. He whirled around to her, palm smacking his forehead. “Oh! I almost forgot.”

Amy raised an eyebrow.

“The girl I sent to yours long lost lovers marker found somethings that were a bit wonky. Some stuffs that I don’t think yous were meant to see.” Yancy dug into his pockets, looking around for guards. He pulled out another slip of paper. “My girl dug a bit deeper. She’s one of those curious types. Anyways, she finds this oddity. All prisoners whose don’t gots family on the outside have their ashes stored with the marker. But gets this. Mark ain’t got no ashes.”

“His mom and brother lived on Ventos Beta,” Amy said, but Yancy shook his head.

“Nope. Not anymore they don’t. My girl digs into that too and finds his familia has vanished. Poof. Gone. Last theys were seen was the day before Mark bit the dust. Pardon my expression. No record of ashes bein sent to them either. So my girl - name is Tiny, by the way. Sweet girl. Good with a shank - she digs a bit deeper. Finds a record of the cremation, but this thing ain’t up to snuff. Very shoddily made. Even some two bit criminal like me knows that ain’t it. So I has her look a bit deeper. Amy, I don’t knows how to say this, but they don’t have yous boyfriends body.”

“W-what?” Amy blinked.

“They had it, and then they didn’t,” Yancy shrugged. “I don’t know what to make of that, but thought yous should know.”

“Thank… thanks,” Amy said, her thoughts already a mile away. She walked past him, the marker slip still clutched in her hand. Yancy watched her leave for a moment before turning and going his own way. He’d done his part. 

Now it was time for Amy to find hers.

And the game was just beginning. 

[supercilium-sulcos]

At Ease

Dragon Age Fenris (with implied Fenris/Hawke) Rating: General Words: 3,527 Warnings: mention of Act 2 character death. Hurt, angst. >> AO3 link << For all of its fancy words, not even in Tevene did any exist that might bring Hawke comfort. And what did Fenris understand of comfort, anyway? Fenhawke, Act 2. Some thoughts on what it's like for Fenris, who knows nothing of family, and Leandra, for whom family is everything.

-

Fenris isn't the only one of Hawke's merry band to drop by his estate. He comes when he wants to, always unnanounced. So perhaps it's no surprise, really, that Fenris often finds that Hawke is gone. Bodahn offers insight. I think he's gone to speak with the Dalish up on the mountain. Should be back in time for supper, I expect! Or sometimes it's more like Not sure, not sure. Messere Hawke is a busy man. So many important people to see... The latter always meant: The Hanged Man with Varric. Today he expects the same.

When Fenris raps the heavy knocker on the door, he waits. Not the normal wait -- it's longer than usual. Would it be rude to knock again? Or is he finally being seen as a nuisance, and ignored until he goes away? Before he can make up his mind, shuffling on the doorstep, he registers sounds from inside. The door swings open. Instead of Bodahn, it's the dwarf boy. His vacant expression shifts as he lifts his head, eyeing Fenris from head to toe. Or perhaps not. Fenris isn't sure. "Hello," the boy says. He hesitates. "Hello." Hesitates again. "May I ask--" "Friend." The declaration is soft, like everything else to come from the boy's mouth. Soft but sure. The boy smiles. "Master's friend." And without waiting for an answer, the boy walks back inside. Leaves the door open -- an invitation. Fenris takes it. He pushes the door shut behind him but by the time he turns around, the boy is gone. Odd dwarf... He needs no guide to Hawke's room. On the landing, he encounters the one person in the estate whom he avoids. "Ah. Serah Fenris, isn't it?" Leandra asks. The title is heavy. Awkward paired with his name. It can't seem so only to him. "Just Fenris will suffice, my lady." "Just Fenris, then," she says, and a sparkle of Hawke's humor flickers in her eyes. "I suspect you're looking for Garrett." "I am." "I'm afraid he won't be home for a few hours. Is your business urgent?" "No," he says. "I have no business with him. I--" Shit. He coughs. "I... came to return something I borrowed." He thinks her eyes flick to his empty hands. She's careful enough to keep from smiling, but there's mischief in that look on her face. The tips of his ears burn. "I see. I'd hate for you to make a wasted trip. If you'd like, you can leave it with me and I'll make sure my son gets it." "Thank you but no. I'll return another time." He has every intention of leaving as swiftly as he came. She speaks again and he stills. "Perhaps I might ask a favor of you, if you've no other pressing matters at hand." Fenris is not like Hawke. He does not deal in favors. But rejecting the woman outright just seems... wrong. He does not answer, but he listens. "Would you come with me?" She leads to the only room in the estate where Fenris has not ventured. For good reason. As if he'd have any business in her private chamber. And yet... The walls are littered with portraits. Fenris recognizes Hawke and Carver, but there are others he does not know. A sweeping family portrait -- presumably the Amells. Another of a girl smiling kindly. A graying man with Hawke's nose and brow. He knows he is looking at Hawke's family. His father, perhaps his sister -- Bethany, it was Bethany. Fenris had never met her but he knew she was Carver's twin. Hawke seldom spoke of her. Her name was heavy on his tongue. Even now, years later. Fenris stares at the faces above him. So many similarities. The shape of their lips, the curve of their brows, their strong chins. Subtle things. Did Hawke pose for the portrait of their father, and Carver for the one of Bethany? They must have. For all the shared features, they must have. Fenris wonders. Not for the first time. He wonders what he has in common with his parents. Ears, nose, eyes, of course -- the standard look of an elf. But he tries to think of what his parents might look like, what creatures gave two halves to create him, and he comes up empty. Blank. Until he thinks of the only creature whom he knows for certain has given anything to his appearance. A deep, old ache stirs within him. Under his skin, in his blood. In his markings. He tears his eyes from the paintings. Leandra has a tea table set with dainty bits of porcelain and silver. She's still steady at her age, unbowed and proud. He watches her fill a second cup from the steaming kettle. "How do you like your tea?" she asks. "I... pardon?" "Cream? Sugar?" "No," he says. "Thank you." She sits, and there is an unspoken invitation for Fenris to do the same. He forgets how to walk, somewhat. He makes it to the table and sits across from her. A noble woman serving me tea. The irony is not lost on Fenris. If Danarius could see this... "You had a favor to ask of me," he reminds her. Leandra smiles. "And you seem to have accepted." Fenris blinks once. "I do not understand." "Your company, dear," she says. He dares not repeat himself for fear of looking like either the ass or the fool. "I'm not as popular as Garrett is these days. When there are guests and letters and summons, they are all for my son," she explains. "Bodahn is here when I need him and Orana is very sweet. But Garrett is busy and Carver... well. I have few visitors. Home feels lonely at times." "I'm afraid I am not good company." "It would seem Garrett thinks otherwise." Again, his ears prickled with heat. "Garrett is... good," Fenris tries. "He's a decent man and friend." "I'm glad you think so." Leandra cocks her head. "Is your tea too hot?" Fenris takes a sip to appease her, clinking the porcelain rather more noisily than she does. He recognizes the flavor. Orange blossoms, rose hips, and perhaps a hint of royal elfroot. Fenris brings the cup to his lips again. Savors the smell, the warmth, the flavors. Where does he know this from? He doesn't recognize it as anything he's ever served Danarius. "You know," Leandra says, "I lost count of how many petitions for marriage he's turned down. I thought perhaps he felt I was meddling too much in his personal life and he refused them all to spite me." Her laugh is gentle. Tired, but tender. "Silly of me. Garrett has never been like that." Fenris pulls the cup from his lips. Watches the tea leaves settle at the bottom. A cold pit settles in his stomach. "I was not aware that he was looking for a spouse. Though I should not be surprised, given his station." "He hardly has time to sleep, let alone think about marriage," Leandra says. "I hoped to help him find a wife. It's clearer to me now why he didn't want my help. Or a wife." He is not a fitting partner for a lord of Hightown. Fenris is a whim, a carnal want, but not a marriage candidate. He has no business finding comfort in Hawke's arms nor his bed nor -- anything, anything here. It shouldn't hurt to think of Hawke moving on. Having his life. Of another touching him in the places Fenris has touched him, or Hawke's hands lifting, feeling, burning... But it hurts anyway. It will always hurt. Hawke will forget him. The one time Fenris let down his walls and let Hawke in, Fenris will always cherish. But for Hawke, it will fade. As all things fade. He does not know how to begin but he cannot sit in silence. "If I am in the way of... That is, if I am causing problems for Hawke..." "You're not a problem, dear. You're very much the opposite." "No," he said. "You don't understand." I can't do this. She didn't know, and how could she? "I understand that my son cares for you a great deal," Leandra tells him gently. "And while I don't know you well, I would say a man who comes to call so often must care for him." They had no future. Fenris could not even live in the present. He wasn't ready, might never be ready. He couldn't do that to Hawke. To tie him down with indecision and wavering convictions. He couldn't let Hawke squander his happiness. "I find it difficult to believe you have no issue with your eldest son considering an elf." Fenris drops his gaze. "Assuming, of course, that there is anything to consider." "'Considering?' Is that what the young people call it now?" She laughs. He flounders, blushing horribly. Leandra glances out the window, letting him burn up without the pressure of her gaze. A distant sort of look comes over her. "I have watched my family suffer so much. I have watched Garrett put on a brave face for us all and carry burdens that never should have been his to bear. But we're here now. Things are getting better. They will never be as they were, and I will never get back all I've lost. But it is better." A sigh lifts her chest. She smiles, an honest and comforting thing that fills Fenris with an odd sense of longing. "I want Garrett to be happy. He's clumsy with his feelings, and he doesn't think much of marriage. But I know my boy. I know you make him happy. If that is what he wants, however much he might stumble on the path, he has my blessing." Did Hawke say something to her about their relationship -- or lack thereof? Probably not. They scarcely speak to anyone about their joke of a love life, and yet it seems to be a well-known secret. He blames Varric. But if even Hawke's mother sees that there's something going on... well, perhaps they are not as subtle as Fenris likes to think. Perhaps the real culprit is all these years of mounting sexual tension. Leandra refills his cup. "Do you like this blend?" He nods and drinks. "It was my daughter's favorite," she recalls fondly. "After we were compensated for the Deep Roads expedition, this was one of the first things I bought." He recalls the source of familiarity. He remembers catching a whiff of it on Hawke, a little herb satchet he keeps tucked in his belt. Clearly not some alchemical brew nor anything to heighten magical abilities. A Fereldan good-luck charm, maybe, he'd thought. Fenris is empty where he knows he should ache. It's been nearly five years since she died and Hawke still carries her. They are quiet while their cups empty. He takes his time. It is odd to sit in silence with this near-stranger. Social norms dictate that he should make small talk with her, although he has no idea how to go about it. Luckily he detects no pressure from her. Not to talk about the weather, or Hawke, or -- Maker forbid -- himself. It is simply quiet. But he is done, whether or not she tells him he is overstaying his welcome. He finishes the last dregs in his cup. "There is something I must attend to. Thank you for the drink." "You're more than welcome. Shall I show you out?" He mumbles something along the lines of "there's no need" but she rises from her chair anyway and guides him downstairs. When she opens the door for him, another flicker of dark amusement flashes in his mind. This woman, a noble, a human... treating him as something akin to an equal. Hawke's disposition must be hereditary. "I'm sure you have more important things to do than wile your time away with an old woman," Leandra says, "but if you have some free time, I'd appreciate your company again." He nods. Not a promise -- just an acknowledgement. The time spent here has, surprisingly, not been unpleasant. "Take care," she says. And then it happens. He let his guard falter. He didn't notice -- not until her palm brushes against a bare strip of skin on the back of his arm, uncovered by his armor. The shock of foreign flesh on his markings. He jolts, yanking away. Fenris comes to himself enough fast enough not to reach for his blade. But fuck if the temptation didn't strike him like a whip. He can't bring himself to look at her. He's ruined it now. For a fraction of a second longer, Fenris stands on the doorstep. Poised like he hasn't decided whether to fight or flee. Light footfalls carry him from the estate. His feet hardly touch the ground; he flies. Crowds part for him and no one takes pursuit. He nearly batters down the door to his own mansion. When he slams it shut behind him, the wall's dusty hangings clatter against the stone. Fenris opens his eyes. Chest heaves. Dust particles settling in a narrow beam of light. Fenris grasps the curtain and yanks it fully shut. Alone again, as he should be. As he wants to be. He presses his back against the door and slides down to the floor. With his knees drawn up to his chin, Fenris withdraws into the familiar comfort of nothingness. - He is unsure of himself. Fenris has never done this before. He can count on one hand how many people he considers himself close to in any capacity -- with fingers to spare. Even within that tiny, tiny group, Fenris has never done this. He puts in research. Watches people in Hightown's square, and even asks advice from  the trinket-peddlers in the bazaar. He tries to learn the etiquette -- Marcher, Fereldan, Kirkwaller, anything -- in the act of gift giving. Never in his life has he had something he would bestow as a gift. Slaves are property, property can't own things. Slaves have nothing to give because nothing belongs to them. Fenris is not a slave anymore, but the concept of ownership is still... muddy. Things that are his, he clutches so tightly that none might part him from them. His clothes, his armor, his blade, the mansion -- these are his. Sometimes Hawke gives him things or Fenris finds them on his own -- like a necklace or a band, imbued with elements of focus or merely good luck for battle -- and Fenris is fiercely attached to them. The mere act of holding them and saying mine is, in itself, an act of defiance. So, it is strange to him to purchase something with the intention of giving it away. "What's this, now?" Leandra wonders. The tin is very plain. Fenris did not know how to wrap it. "For you," he says. She takes it from him and unscrews the lid. Inside is a clutter of dried sprigs, brown and black and crushed to tiny pieces. Leandra brings it to her face to smell it, though Fenris can already detect the aroma from across her little table. "Tea leaves?" He nods. "I've never smelled anything like it," she says -- not unkindly. "It's a blend from Seheron. The leaves are woodsmoked with cloves. The flavor is strong, but it is an effective sleep agent." Her eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles. "Then I'll brew it tonight. Maker knows I could use a good night's rest." She places the tin in a spot of honor atop her own pretty, painted box of tea leaves and sugar. "Thank you, Fenris. That was sweet of you." He reddens at the crests of his cheeks, glancing away but not with embarrassment. He's done well, then. Good. "Oh, and that reminds me. Would you believe I have something for you as well?" Surely he misunderstands. Fenris lifts his head again and watches her cross the room. She plucks a glass jar from the mantle and when she returns, she moves her chair closer to him before she sits down. "Last week you'd mentioned these winters were drying you out something terrible. Hopefully this helps." The salve is opaque, green-tinged, and its scent unfamiliar. "Is it some sort of medicine?" Leandra says, "It's a skin cream. Your hand, dear?" Fenris hesitates. There is no pressure, and with three children raised, Leandra seems to understand something of boundaries -- even ones that seem rather ludicrous at the surface. She is patient with him, though. She waits. And Fenris prepares himself. He picks off the armor and glove, exposing his bare hand on the table between them. So many times has it dried, cracked, split, and bled. Scars remind him of the spots that always reopen. The scars are ugly. And yet even they do not compare to the white markings scoring his entire body. He takes a breath. Leandra presses a dollop of the cream into his palm. She is careful, gentle, but purpose drives her. Even when he stiffens, holds back a wince, it is necessary. This will make it better, he tells himself, biting back at his baser instincts to withdraw from the pain. It's harder than he thought. She turns his hand over and coats his scarred knuckles, the crevices between each finger, and around the edges of each nail. And for a moment, when Fenris looks to her, he does not see Leandra. He sees another woman. An elf with black hair and cooper skin. Hands both tender and firm patch his scraped knee. The woman speaks, but he doesn't hear a voice -- doesn't know the words. All he knows is warmth, the softness of spring grass, sun shining off of her eyes. Green. Green, like moss, like... He doesn't know what this is. A memory, an illusion, a mere wish...? He doesn't know. The wisps of it fade as quickly as it had come before he can even think to chase them. "...ris? Fenris?" A blink, and he remembers himself. He flexes his bare hand. Supple skin shifts over sinew. There is no pain. No bite of  cracking skin. "I tried to mind your tattoos," Leandra says. "I hope I didn't..." "No. It is all right." Again, he curls in his fingers. The skin is still hard, but not stiff like before. "I think it will be easier to hold my sword like this." Leandra gives an exasperated shake of her head. "Boys. Of course your first concern is a fight." After he redresses his hand, she presses the jar into his palm. "Use it as you need it, dear. I hope it brings you some comfort." For a moment, he expects to see that... vision again. Pointed ears and viridian eyes. But instead, he sees Leandra. It's better this way, he thinks. This is real. But the strange, innocent embrace of his vision is real, too -- even if the vision itself is nothing more than a fabrication of his mind. "Thank you," he says. He means it. And when she smiles, Fenris nearly returns it. - Fenris knows what a decomposing body smells like. He knows the smell of gore. It has followed him for as long as he can remember. But he is not ready for what they find. He knows the evils of magic. Has felt the evils of magic, bears inescapable reminders of it etched into his skin. But he is not ready to see it. Not like this. They built a pyre for her in the tunnels. For Leandra and the bits of the other poor souls stitched to the grotesque flesh puppet they found bearing her face. Fenris has cleaned himself so many times. He scrubs and scrubs but he cannot rid himself of the smell, of the rot. He gives up only because he cannot bear to think of Hawke alone any longer. But he can't take this pain away. Hawke wants absolution. Justice. He wants his family back. Fenris can't give him any of that. He can't help. He can't even share Hawke's pain. Fenris doesn't know what it's like to lose a mother. But he discovered, so very briefly, what it might be like to have one. And it doesn't matter that Fenris broke things off. Nothing else matters but the heavy hang of Hawke's head, the slump of his entire body. Defeated. No creature can fell him in battle. But this is different. Fenris makes no noise. He is sure Hawke does not even notice him coming closer until the tips of his bare feet come to rest between Hawke's. Hawke lifts his face, the pallor of a broken man. "Garrett," he whispers. He can't speak. He cradles Hawke's head in his hands, fingers buried in raven hair, and he pulls Hawke against his stomach. Shaking arms embrace him around the middle. Hawke shudders, pulls in a sharp breath -- and sobs. I will be strong for him, Fenris tells himself, even as his eyes mist over. They are strong and they will overcome. But this pain, so raw and new, reminds him of why he is so afraid in the first place.

[ladyramora]

Child's play

You did it so quickly you hardly had time to warn anyone else, Alphinaud’s stunned face still so easy to recall when you brought in your new brood when he summoned you to slay another false God. They all were shocked, at the various species and sizes of the children you were now in charge of, but then again making yourself the official guardian of T'kebbe and every other orphan at the orphanage in Idyllshire would probably do that… But you had more than enough room at your house for them, you had been visiting the orphanage so much that they practically saw you as a parent anyway and you’d had trouble coming to your home (ya know, the one you bought for yourself for all that money that you never friggin’ use) for a while now because it was so lonely there.

And while some people would assume that you were too busy being the Warrior of Light and killing false gods and liberating countries that you had no time for raising children.

They were WRONG.

These were your babies now, you were going to give these kids a wonderful childhood filled with meeting new people and learning all sorts of fun and helpful things and you were determined to make these little ones’ lives better. You had happily walked around market places with them, picking out wallpapers, toys and furniture for their rooms, discussing who would share with whom, planting a garden, setting up a chore wheel, buying them new clothes and taking them to various guilds to help them find new hobbies and make friends…

You loved it so much and it had even helped modivate you into slaying whatever plagued the realm faster so you could go home to your beloved babies, who would come swarming at you the moment you opened the door. This had been one of the things you’d been hoping for since before you first arrived in Eorzea; a family to call your own.

One day, after a fun afternoon of rough housing and playing with the many pets you adopted because Dear Gods you couldn’t say no to all those pouting faces, and tending to the gardens and helping muck out the stalls when you realized that you were missing a few ingredients for dinner. You herded your family into the house so you could be sure they’d be safe and you could grab enough coins to buy what you needed and told them you’d be back soon, explaining where you were going, what you were doing and that you’d be back soon. 

You’d been gone fifteen minutes at most, your purchases in a bag hanging off your wrist as you happily made your way back to your house…

Only for your blood to run cold the moment you saw your door was smashed in and there were large shoulder pad impressions by the doorway.

There was only one bastard who would dare break into your house who was that big;

Zenos.

You dashed in, grabbing your weapon as it lay by the door, ready to destroy the monster who could harm your precious children…

Only to have to cover your mouth not to ruin the moment.

Zenos was sitting in his big, intimidating armor, his arms crossed and his lips pulled into a pout as two children braided his hair, three were climbing all over him, another one was asking him about twenty questions and four were running around him, chasing all of their pets. You counted the children and finally spotted your eldest one dashing towards you, nervous and confused.

“He… He just rammed through the door and the next thing I knew, he was like that!” T'kebbe blurted.

“I’m sorry I missed it.” You chuckled before calling out for the younger ones to wash up to help you prepare for dinner. The younger ones and the animals immediately ran over to greet you, and after hugs and kisses, the little ones ran to your washroom to wash their hands and faces before they would help prepare dinner.

“T'kebbe, would you mind starting the oven for me?” You ask, the cat girl looked at the massive man in black armor nervously.

“I’ll deal with him, could you take this into the kitchen and make sure no one eats the pie I made yet, please?“ 

She nodded, still nervous and collected the bag from you before scurrying towards the bathroom, ready to escort her siblings to the kitchen first before doing as you asked while you walked over to Zenos, who was covered in mud, paint, drool and had colorful ribbons and awkwardly shaped braids in his hair.

He glared up at you, "Your cubs take after you in savagery.” he said plainly.

“Hey, you break my door down, you deal with my kids.” you said with a shrug, “And you know you could’ve knocked first, they would’ve told you to wait outside for me, every other person who’s come to my house to challenge me has done that without me even having to tell them that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He hissed before saying that, “Although I don’t think it would be kind to let your children watch you lose." 

"Tough talk for someone who was taken down by those who still have not even battled the horrible demon that is puberty.” You retort before offering him your hand, “Come on, we have enough room at the table for one more, even one your size.” You say loudly enough for your little ones to hear. 

Your youngest three gasp happily before latching themselves onto his legs, shouting, “Zeny’s staying! Zeny’s staying!”

‘Zeny’ did not appreciate the new nickname nor did he like his new living leg warmers. But he did and said nothing to them in an attempt to rid himself of them. If anything, he simply took a moment to figure out how to move without accidently hurting them before walking towards the kitchen as he grumbled under his breath, “At least I know how you move so fast now, with these mongrels latching onto you like this all the time.”

“You call my children ‘mongrels’ again, I’m making roast Zenos instead of Roast Dodo. And yes, I will stuff you before I cook you.” you threatened in a sickeningly sweet voice as you and T'kebbe herded the rest of them into the kitchen to set the table and help prep the food. You and T'kebbe enjoying watching the younger ones once again make Zenos their plaything as dinner cooked.

“You know, this might sound strange, but I think he actually might be kind of nice.” T'kebbe said, “Either that or he knows that if he tries anything with us, you’d turn him into dust.”

“I’m fine with either.” You replied, “But after coming home to this, I am definitely going to teach all of you a few moves tomorrow just in case 'Zeny’ comes back to play. Maybe I should get you some Red Mage gear and teach you a few spells too, just in case he brings a friend." 

T'kebbe brightened, "Really? You mean it?”

“Of course! Actually…” You paused and looked over at Zenos, “Hey 'Zeny’, after dinner, could you give T'kebbe a few tips about welding a sword? I have a training dummy in the back you can use.”

At the words 'tips’, 'sword’ and 'training dummy’ his face broke out into a large grin that made you start to crack up before he quickly broke it to glare at you, “and why would you want me to do that?”

“Consider it a way to help pay off the debt you owe me for the repairs.” You said as you indicated the broken doorway. He seemed sheepish at the sight of the damage and muttered about it not being his fault the door was so damn small.

“Does this mean Zeny’s going to come to visit more often?” one of the older ones asked.

“Let’s see how well he can handle teaching your sister first before we go that far.” you tell them. You looked at Zenos, a smile on your face as you asked, “You think you can handle that, Zeny?”

He gave you a wide grin at the challenge before replying “Teaching her? Child’s play." 

Lolz: I just really love the idea of the Warrior of Light coming back from a quick errand to either their adopted child(ren) or a child(ren) they are babysitting and find that they have made Zenos their plaything. Just the thought of the big bad prince of death and swordplay being quickly defeated at the hands of a child (or children) is hilarious to me and can be made into so many funny scenes in my head, like Zenos wearing his armor, a big floopy hat and a tiny feather boa as he sits at a super tiny play table with little girls, having a tea party and holding a miniscule tea cup with his pinky up. Or Zenos being the princess (he’s the only royal they had around, so he’s the princess now) while the little boys play knights and 'rescue’ him. Or just having kids skipping all around him or having a kid in his lap excitedly reading a story from their favorite book to him and all the while he’s pouting and being all grumpy about it because he doesn’t really want to play but he never says no to the kid(s). 

that and picturing him in any of those scenarios with the Warrior of Light biting back laughter and him glaring at them is too amazing, I am DYING here.

[cholisan]

Bereaved[sasuhina]

To those who lost,

I wish I had something to offer to you guys but I don't. Even now I am trying to come up with something to say but words are failing me. I wish I could tell you that it is going to be okay but I can't. I don't know that. No one does. The only thing I can tell you is to hang in there, that it is okay to be not-okay, that if you want to talk about it or anything then I am here, that even if I don't know you my prayers are with you.

This is for you all.

Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto.

Excuse my errors.

Hinata saw it happen.

...his tiny foot twisting under his weight, inertia throwing him face first into the hard ground, his chin connecting first sending ripples that cracked bones in his skull, his teeth sinking into his tongue to tear his flesh apart, a fountain of blood bursting forth upon which he choked, snatching away precious gulps of air that his punctured lung hadn't already robbed him of, legs bent in an impossible angel, a broken tooth near his chubby hand, mouth parted in a cry that never escaped, skin blue and red in several places, a picture from his disaster of a coloring book but still so precious, like his eyes, his smile ,like him, so beautiful to look at yet so devastating to think of when shattered, tattered, broken.

But he screamed.

And the world was turning again.

"Hinata!?"

She blinked.

"Breathe."

It dawned on her that it was her lungs that were burning, it was her body that was aching and it was she who was dying if not already.

"You're crying."

Her eyes found the boy again, still on the ground, wailing as he clung to his scraped knee. A small crowd had gathered around him, two adults crouched near him, a young man and woman definitely his parents, shaken, worried, loving him, kissing. Thank Kami that they weren't them, that he wasn't him. He wasn't him.

Oh Kami, he wasn't him!

Her heart broke again and it sounded like a sob.

"Hinata, sweetie. Try to breathe or you will faint. Breathe in and out. In and out."

So, she breathed in another day without him.

.

.

.

She was going to hell.

But she had no objections whatsoever. If it were up to her, she'd send herself to the endless pit of flames too. Even that would be too kind on her. She had taken a life, crushed hearts and destroyed hopes. Failure had become a second nature to her whether it was at being a daughter, an heiress, a matriarch, wife or a mother. She was a failure. Disappointment. Father was right to berate her. Her elders' head shakes were all too justified.

So was Sasuke's hate.

Had he not been away that fateful day, Hinata knew that none of it would've occurred. He was the better parent out of the two. More skilled, more equipped and less distracted. But in their traditional setting, he was the breadwinner. He was the one tasked with risking his life to feed his family. It was her job to look after their only child, for which she had left behind her shinobi life.

And a fine job she did.

Now, she came back to their empty house, howling loud on stormy nights. The silence screamed at her, a mocking reminder of the mornings she had wished her son was a little quieter. Go sleep now, she heard, go fucking sleep all you want. If only she could have things she needed to do, chores she needed to attend to. Wash his sheets on chilly mornings that'd swell her toes or prepare his milk in the middle of the night. If only she still could sleep amidst her walls screaming at her.

In the kitchen, Sasuke's food sat on the counter, wasting away like him in a dirty bar downtown with every bottle that burned down his throat. She hated the taste of alcohol. It tasted like funeral and the sick comfort she turned to when Sasuke refused. But how dare she seek comfort when it was because of her that her baby boy was six feet under. She would find none when she went to hell. Better get accustomed to it when she could.

She turned the lights off.

The group was gathering again tomorrow, she thought slipping under the sheets. She didn't know why she even bothered with these support groups but knew why her husband didn't. He loathed her very existence, as he should. They hadn't married for love exactly and had only found it in the form of their son. So, when they lost him, he lost his mind and she both him and herself. This was the only way he knew to cope up with all the hurt. Hate was the only emotion he embraced in its entirety. He would not breathe the same air as her, if he could help it and Hinata didn't blame him. She just hoped she didn't see Mrs. Kasumi again. Mrs. Kasumi with her moist gaze and sad smile and her daughter, little Akane, eight, whom she had lost to cancer - a tumor in her head she was born with but never knew, that grew up with her until it ruptured an artery in her brain. Her last day had been tiring, Kasumi often told, spent throwing up all over the place. But she had died peacefully in her sleep with her mother's words, "it's okay, baby. Mommy gets sick too."

Hinata wished she could've told him something loving like that. Not how bad a boy he had been. She wished she hadn't given him a timeout, that her last memory of him was not of his beautiful face soaked in tears. How he too died peacefully, in sleep. How he didn't die at all. How she still had him by her side in the bed, blowing raspberries on his tiny belly. How he was the one screaming at her and not her walls.

She was going to hell and Kami she knew she deserved it.

.

.

.

In the Hyuuga backyard, she could hear the wooden slab of a lonely swing crying with the willow tree it held on to. Last time, Hanabi had told her that she was taking it off, that it reminded the clan about the loss of their youngest member. He was loved wherever he went. Both houses had mourned his death. It was a painful memory for everyone.

It must have escaped Hanabi's mind, with all the things she was currently dealing with when her father refused to be of any help. He had taken a sudden liking to his room where he remained for the entirety of his day.

She tried to not burden anyone but people didn't make it easy to be around them. Not with their pitying gazes or their half-hearted remarks or their it's going to be okay's. Because it wasn't going to be okay, for a long time at least, if not forever. She wanted them to tell her that it was okay to be not-okay.

But they told her other things. Cruel things. Not all but some. Her clan elders to be more specific. They told her: "It has been too long."

To which Hanabi replied, "She lost a child, you heartless bastard. A child. But you wouldn't know that, would you? When you never had a child of your own."

It would summon several gasps from the table, many plates of food untouched, like hers, before them. A fist would slam on the table with so much force that it would clatter all the chinaware sitting innocently there. "Hanabi. Stay in your place. We do not appreciate insolence directed towards our elders."

"And I do not appreciate you poking your nose where it doesn't belong. Why don't you just take care of your wife so that she doesn't turn to others instead of worrying about my sister and I."

"HANABI!"

"Lower your voice or I'll do it for you."

By then, many seats would be abandoned on both sides, byakugan glaring, threats exchanged, clansmen against clansmen. It looked like beginning of another war, one that would be all her fault. There was so much on her shoulders already. She didn't want more.

And that was why she would call everyone's attention with a loud "t-thank you for t-the meal", turn to the man who started it all and bow so low, as if being weighed down with all that she was made to carry. "I-I'm sorry Hajime-sama for worrying you. Please give me more time. I-I'll try to get better." And she'd be out before he could reply.

To think she would want to return to the safety of her home. It didn't feel safe. It didn't even feel like a home. Sasuke had made a motel out of it. In his defense, she had been the one who had reduced their house to a mere building of bricks and walls. There had once been his pictures all over the Livingroom wall but after a particularly difficult night when her tears wouldn't stop flowing, she had taken them off, packed it in a box and tucked it in one corner of the attic. Those weren't the only things that went and eight months later, their house was barren of his very touch, an empty cradle.

So Sasuke was justified to treat it as such. He came and went and when he did decide to stay, he remained locked up in his library. At one point, Hinata had deduced that out of the two, he was dealing with it better. He still went on missions, hung out with his former team, visited Ichiraku's, smiled and talked in that smooth way of his, bathed and ate (just not her food). But the dark circles under his eyes and his quickly graying hair clashed with her assumption and she felt stupid to be fooled by his masks.

But she could be alone there. Solitude had become her safe heaven. While she could pretend to be fine before Hajime-san and her clan, there she could break over and over again. She could be not-okay there.

.

.

.

Another meeting of the grief support group came and went, new pain to add to her already miserable life. Another day where she merely sat and let time pass her by. How many times had they asked if she wanted to share her story, Hinata had lost count. And even though there was so much she wanted them to know about him, about how much he had filled her life with joy and happiness with the little things he did, she just couldn't. The words failed her even if they just hung at the tip of her tongue.

Thus, the group that was supposed to help grieving parents left her in more anguish. She felt like an even bigger loser. He deserved to have songs written after him after all that he had done for her. Her little savior. But she couldn't even tell them his name because it hurt. How selfish could she get?

She aimlessly strolled through the streets, not wanting to go home just yet. At the same time, she wanted not to run into people she knew. Shino would not know what to say and Kiba tried so hard to not talk about their deceased son that she'd suppress the urge wince. She couldn't look at Sakura without having a panic attack. She had been the one to try put together his broken body. Kurenai was somewhat comfortable to be around. Among them, he wasn't a taboo topic and hearing her talk about him was actually calming. Right now, however, she didn't want to be around her. She just didn't feel like talking her broken sentences that his death had brought back to life.

And although she had decided to skirt the Hyuuga compound that her feet and unconsciously taken her to, she was halted in her path by the screams that rang, the loudest being her father's.

She rushed inside, worried eyes searching the crowd of Hyuugas in her way for her sister, beginning Kami that nothing happened to either her or her father. She found them around her son's swing, Hanabi telling him something animatedly while Hiashi holding on to it for dear life. The crowd parted to make way for her when several white eyes landed on her and she simply trudged to them, confused. "Wha-what's going on?"

"Hinata. Thank goodness you're are here. Talk to him. He won't listen to me." Hiashi simply turned his face away, knowing well that if she insisted, he won't be able to refuse.

"Father. What's going on?"

"He being unreasonable, that's what's goin-."

Hinata raised her hand to silence her and walked up to him. Something about his father holding on to her son's swing made her heart ache. He had loved him, with all his heart. Losing him after Hizashi and Neji had been the final straw. He just wasn't the same. "Father?"

She saw how his grip tightened around the rope, how he squeezed his eyes to will his tears away. "They want to take his swing off. I won't allow it."

"Fathe-"

"Nobody forgets my grandson. Nobody."

She didn't know what happened in that instant but the next moment she was laughing through her tears. "Yes father. No one forgets him." Many concluded that the father-daughter duo had finally lost it and maybe they had but there was something in their broken laughter that had been lost and found. What was and wasn't there, Hinata could make a list but above all she would put forgiveness and hope in bold letters.

The swing stayed.

She went home that day and took out his pictures to put them exactly where they belonged on the wall. A particularly favorite picture of Sasuke and him that had once sat on his table made her sneak into his library in a bold display of happiness, something she avoided in the name of an unannounced rule. Scrolls and books littered the table and the floor she tiptoed across to prevent stepping on one. There was a smile when she placed the framed photograph on the table but it fell when her eyes registered the words stretched across one of the books Sasuke had left open.

"What are you doing?"

She forced her frozen body to turn. Sasuke stood at the door, glaring daggers at her but it was his hair that caught her attention, the bones sticking out on his face, his thin frame and it all made sense now. Once again, she had been fooled by his masks. "Y-you're p-planning on reviving him?"

He marched up to her and snatched the book out of her hands, "get out!"

But she stayed. "You want to re-revive him?"

He was still glowering but it had a touch of vulnerability. "Don't you?"

She breathed out shakily. "A-at what price, Sasuke? Your life?"

"It's not that big of a price. I'd do it in a heartbeat if you offered it. I would choose him over you any day of the week."

Her lips trembled, vision going blurry. I'd do it too. I'd choose him over me too.

"I hate you."

I hate me more.

"I hate you for not letting me a farewell. You had no right to do that. No right!"

He had been in Kiri when the devastating news got to him. By the time he returned, there was a new grave to add to the ever stretching Uchiha cemetery. He had screamed at her. Yelled. This was not her decision to make alone. He was his son too and he wasn't even allowed a final glance.

"I hate you for taking him away from me!"

He was on the floor now, a crying mess while she stood, barely keeping her weight up. Strangely, her eyes were dry. She always knew he blamed her, hated her and yet the declaration had left her numb. She was lost as to what to feel.

"I don't blame you for his death but you took my final moments with him. You had no right. You had no right, none at all. How dare you take that from me! "

His screams rang louder than her crash on the floor beside him. He had his head in his hands, tears hidden away but she cupped his face and made him look up. "I'm sorry I did that to you. I'm so sorry but you wouldn't have been able to take it. It would've killed you." He still had nightmares about the massacre. Many a times, before his death, she had held him to her bosom when he woke up screaming in the middle of the night, sweating but shivering. How could she have let him see the twisted body of the boy that he had loved more than life itself. There were many things Hinata had done that she wanted to undo but this was not among them.

"It didn't kill you."

Not in the literal sense of the word, no. But she died every day. She was messed up in so many ways that even death wouldn't take her. Perhaps that was what they called hell. You burned but you didn't.

"At least tell me he died happy."

"He got into a fight that day and I had scolded him for it so he wasn't happy about it. He said that he liked daddy more."

Sasuke let out a choked laugh, a sleeve pressed to his eyes. "I always was his favorite."

Only when her tears dripped down her face did she realize she had been crying. But she smiled, the kind that ached inside your chest when you finished reading your favorite book. "You were."

There was silence for a while and then there was "He was a happy child, right? He was loved."

Hinata smiled. "He was." And so much more.

They didn't eat lunch together that day (surprisingly or unsurprisingly, Hinata didn't know which) or sleep in the same bed but despite his declarations of hate and all the hurtful things he had said, she was peaceful because silence had been broken and not hearts and she could live with just that.

The next time she went to the support group, Sasuke had been there at the door, waiting. And that she knew was surprising.

It would be a long time before she could look back at their time together and not cry but she had taken a step in that direction and after what had felt like an eternity, she could proudly say "I did it." And when Mrs. Kasumi politely asked if anyone wanted to share their story, she felt Sasuke's hand slip into hers, a silent push, to which she nodded. Our son will not be forgotten, she promised to him and herself before getting up.

And so, for the first time, she spoke.

.

.

.

Tayyabalaraib.

[nova0000scotia]

THANKS canada.com  for today's incredible article entitled.... CANADA'S BATTLE WITH LONELINESS  (article posted below)quote:  For months she’s been struggling with sleep issues, the stress of the never-ending pandemic and a nagging feeling she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Until now.“I’m lonely,” she said recently. “I’m okay with everything, but I just can’t get a handle all this loneliness … it’s breaking my heart.”Angela, who asked her last name not to be used, is not alone with the loneliness epidemic. She is but one of thousands of Canadians trying to work through the pandemic, where isolation has become a critical issue, and mental health concerns are coming on like a huge tsunami of pain.ARTICLE:    Canada’s battle with the loneliness epidemicAngela may be in lockdown but that doesn’t mean she’s not busy.A single mom to two teenagers, she juggles a middle-management job where she’s on Zoom meetings several times a week, making sure her kids are sticking to their schools’ stringent work schedules, balancing the dozens of domestic duties, and checking in on her elderly, yet still active parents, who live in another province.For months she’s been struggling with sleep issues, the stress of the never-ending pandemic and a nagging feeling she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Until now.“I’m lonely,” she said recently. “I’m okay with everything, but I just can’t get a handle all this loneliness … it’s breaking my heart.”Angela, who asked her last name not to be used, is not alone with the loneliness epidemic. She is but one of thousands of Canadians trying to work through the pandemic, where isolation has become a critical issue, and mental health concerns are coming on like a huge tsunami of pain.On the one hand, you can only listen to the masking, hand-washing and stay-home-to-stay-safe mantra for so long before many automatically tune it out.On the other hand – it’s the loss of regular routine, and being cut off from your family and friends, that is taking its toll on the public.Loneliness leaves people feeling empty, lost and hollow, craving something as simple as a friendly voice, even a simple hug to signify they are viable and alive. Loneliness is about tangible feelings. Loneliness goes hand-in-hand with despair.So it comes as no surprise there’s a real epidemic of loneliness happening all around us. It can be deadly. Research shows “people who are lonely are up to 32% more likely to die early than their more connected peers,” writes columnist Sonya Collins for WebMD. Social isolation isn’t just a problem for the elderly or homebound; new research shows young adults ages 18 to 22 are turning out to be the loneliest generation ever. Children are known to act out due to their loneliness.It’s a given that “all of us fall somewhere on the loneliness continuum,” says Julianne Holt-Lunstad, PhD, a professor of psychology at Brigham Young University on webmd.com. Feeling alone, she says, “ranks up there with smoking, obesity, and physical inactivity in terms of its effects on your health.”Dr. Bernard Gosevtiz is a well-established Toronto-based family physician who counts many of Canada’s elite, including powerful politicians and business leaders, as his patients. He’s been in practice for close to five decades, yet he admits he’s never seen such an explosion of patient concerns as he has this past year.“Patients just don’t want to get off the phone with me,” said Gosevitz recently, who has been treating his patients via telecom visits due to the pandemic. Gosevitz has seen a spike in patient concerns ranging from “physical problems, like back pain and headaches,” to sleep issues to anxiety and depression. He notes the surge in loneliness in many of his patients, particularly the elderly.“You do your best to reassure people on a situation, especially with the ever-changing pandemic landscape, where answers are not crystal clear and can change on a dime,” says Gosevitz.Compassion is the key, adds Gosevitz, “but for every one person I’m reassuring, there are 19 more waiting to get on the line to talk.”Loneliness has long been a growing public health concern in Canada and globally, and COVID-19 is making the loneliness epidemic even worse, especially for the elderly. Older adults are particularly harmed — virtual hugs and kisses don’t cut it. NORC at the University of Chicago found the pandemic has made about a third of adults 70 and older lonelier than usual. And a recent survey by B.C.’s Seniors Advocate reports that care home residents are more concerned about dying of loneliness than the pandemic.“Increased isolation has led to many seniors worrying about not having enough time left to see their families and connect,” said registered psychotherapist Joshua Peters.Social disconnect isn’t just a problem for the elderly. Anyone, anywhere, of any age can experience loneliness, and with it much pain and suffering, notes Dr. Ami Rokach, a York University professor and clinical psychologist specializing in treating and researching loneliness. “All of us want, and need, to belong and to be loved.”Loneliness is debilitating mentally and physically for all ages: “It is known to weaken the immune system, lengthen the period of illness, slow recovery, contribute to heart attacks, high blood pressure, dementia in the elderly, and may even hasten death in the old,” says Rokach.According to Peters, in order to get through this crisis, we need to ensure that we do not forget how vulnerable seniors are to being neglected and connect as much as possible. “In caring for seniors, it is also important to ensure they are  given as much independence as possible. Respect should be given for their experiences and the lives that they have lived.”ALONE BUT NOT LONELYBeing alone does not, necessarily, mean being lonely, according to loneliness expert Dr. Ami Rokach. “It may arouse boredom, some anxiety, and a wish to see and interact with others, but that does not loneliness make.“Just like when we feel we wish to taste a piece of chocolate or a sweet treat does not mean that we are hungry.”  Perception of the situation is very important.Rokach offered these tips for dealing with loneliness:– Friendships are critical. You may want to take some social risks and approach others whom you may know only superficially, with the goal of making friends, or those whom you know in order to deepen their friendship.– Technology allows us to be in contact with people who may be, physically, far away from us. There are screens which are very simple to operate, and which allow seniors to connect, via video, with others. It is worthwhile to have get some type of screen.– For those who can, participating in a volunteer activity is highly recommended. It is known to have many beneficial effects.– Usually we know that being nice to the world, results in the world being nice to us. That necessitates deciding to become active, and purposefully welcoming others, which will result in feeling welcome and valued by others.Author of the article:   Rita DeMontis, Joanne Richard    

[7r0773r]

The End of Policing by Alex S. Vitale

Excessive use of force, however, is just the tip of the iceberg of over-policing. There are currently more than 2 million Americans in prison or jail and another 4 million on probation or parole. Many have lost the right to vote; most will have severe difficulties in finding work upon release and will never recover from the lost earnings and work experience. Many have had their ties to their families irrevocably damaged and have been driven into more serious and violent criminality. Despite numerous well-documented cases of false arrests and convictions, the vast majority of these arrests and convictions have been conducted lawfully and according to proper procedure—but their effects on individuals and communities are incredibly destructive. (1. The Limits of Police Reform)

***

More than anything, however, what we really need is to rethink the role of police in society. The origins and function of the police are intimately tied to the management of inequalities of race and class. The suppression of workers and the tight surveillance and micromanagement of black and brown lives have always been at the center of policing. Any police reform strategy that does not address this reality is doomed to fail. (1. The Limits of Police Reform)

***

The reality is that the police exist primarily as a system for managing and even producing inequality by suppressing social movements and tightly managing the behaviors of poor and nonwhite people: those on the losing end of economic and political arrangements. (2. The Police Are Not Here to Protect You)

***

When slavery was abolished, the slave patrol system was too; small towns and rural areas developed new and more professional forms of policing to deal with the newly freed black population. The main concern of this period was not so much preventing rebellion as forcing newly freed blacks into subservient economic and political roles. New laws outlawing vagrancy were used extensively to force blacks to accept employment, mostly in the sharecropping system. Local police enforced poll taxes and other voter suppression efforts to ensure white control of the political system. 

Anyone on the roads without proof of employment was quickly subjected to police action. Local police were the essential front door of the twin evils of convict leasing and prison farms. Local sheriffs would arrest free blacks on flimsy to nonexistent evidence, then drive them into a cruel and inhuman criminal justice system whose punishments often resulted in death. These same sheriffs and judges also received kickbacks and in some cases generated lists of fit and hardworking blacks to be incarcerated on behalf of employers, who would then lease them out to perform forced labor for profit. Douglas Blackmon chronicles the appalling conditions of mines and lumber camps where thousands perished. By the Jim Crow era, policing had become a central tool of maintaining racial inequality throughout the South, supplemented by ad hoc vigilantes such as the Ku Klux Klan, which often worked closely with—and was populated by—local police. 

Northern policing was also deeply affected by emancipation. Northern political leaders deeply feared the northern migration of newly freed rural blacks, whom they often viewed as socially, if not racially, inferior, uneducated, and criminal. Ghettos were established in Northern cities to control this growing population, with police playing the role of both containment and pacification. Up until the 1960s, this was largely accomplished through the racially discriminatory enforcement of the law and widespread use of excessive force. Blacks knew very well what the behavioral and geographic limits were and the role that police played in maintaining them in both the Jim Crow South and the ghettoized North. (2. The Police Are Not Here to Protect You)

***

Today’s modern police are not that far removed from their colonialist forebears. They too enforce a system of laws designed to reproduce and maintain economic inequality, usually along racialized lines. As Michelle Alexander has put it,

We need an effective system of crime prevention and control in our communities, but that is not what the current system is. This system is better designed to create crime, and a perpetual class of people labeled criminals … Saying mass incarceration is an abysmal failure makes sense, though only if one assumes that the criminal justice system is designed to prevent and control crime. But if mass incarceration is understood as a system of social control—specifically, racial control—then the system is a fantastic success. (2. The Police Are Not Here to Protect You)

***

This increase in the number of school-based police is tied to a variety of social and political factors that converged in the 1990s and continues today. First, conservative criminologist John Dilulio, along with broken-windows theory author James Q. Wilson, argued in 1995 that the United States would soon experience a wave of youth crime driven by the crack trade, high rates of single-parent families, and a series of racially coded concerns about declining values and public morality. He predicted that by 2010 there would be an additional 270,000 of these youthful predators on the streets, leading to a massive increase in violent crime. He described these young people as hardened criminals: “radically impulsive, brutally remorseless … elementary school youngsters who pack guns instead of lunches” and “have absolutely no respect for human life.” Dilulio and his colleagues argued that there was nothing to be done but to exclude such children from settings where they could harm others and, ultimately, to incarcerate them for as long as possible. Dilulio’s ideas were based on spurious evidence and ideologically motivated assumptions that turned out to be totally inaccurate. Every year since, juvenile crime in and out of schools in the US has declined. 

However, the “superpredator” myth was extremely influential. It generated a huge amount of press coverage, editorials, and legislative action. One of the immediate consequences was a rash of new laws lowering the age of adult criminal responsibility, making it easier to incarcerate young people in adult jails, in keeping with the broader politics of incapacitation and mass incarceration. It was also at the center of efforts to tighten school discipline policies and increase police presence in schools.

The second major factor was the Columbine school massacre of 1999, in which two Colorado high school students murdered twelve classmates and a teacher, despite the presence of armed police on campus. This tragic incident received incredible attention due to its extreme nature and the fact that it occurred in a normally low-crime white suburban area. It was easy enough for middle-class families to ignore the more frequent outbursts of violence in nonwhite urban schools, but this incident drove them to want action taken to make schools safer for young people. 

In keeping with the broader ethos of get-tough criminal-justice measures, the response was to increase the presence of armed police in schools rather than dealing with the underlying social issues of bullying, mental illness, and the availability of guns. While there was some focus on bullying, much of it took a punitive form, driving additional “zero tolerance” disciplinary procedures and further contributing to suspensions, expulsions, and arrests on flimsy evidence and for minor infractions. 

The third major factor was the rise of neoliberal school reorganization, with its emphasis on high-stakes testing, reduced budgets, and punitive disciplinary systems. Increasingly, schools are being judged almost exclusively based on student performance on standardized tests. Teacher pay, discretionary spending, and even the survival of the school are tied to these tests. This creates a pressure-cooker atmosphere in schools in which improving test scores becomes the primary focus, pitting teachers’ and administrators’ interests against those of students. A teacher or administrator who wants to keep their job or earn a bonus has an incentive to get rid of students who are dragging down test scores through low performance or behaviors that disrupt the performances of other students. This gives those schools a strong incentive to drive those students out, either temporarily through suspensions or permanently through expulsions or dropping out. (3. The School-To-Prison Pipeline) ***

What we are witnessing is, in essence, the criminalization of mental illness, with police on the front lines of this process. This is especially true for those who are homeless and/or lack access to quality mental health services. Both groups of people have grown significantly in recent decades. While the Affordable Care Act holds the promise of some improvement, as recently as 2011, over 60 percent of people experiencing a mental health problem reported that they had no access to mental health services. Even when mental health services are available, they are often inadequate. A lack of stable housing and income exacerbates mental health problems, makes treatment more difficult, and contributes to the public display of disability-related behaviors, all of which make it more likely that the police will be called. (4 “We Called for Help, and They Killed My Son”)

***

One of the lessons learned in the last twenty years is that the best way to get people off the streets and out of the shelters is to make immediate permanent housing available to them at very low or no cost, and to provide a range of optional support services to help them stay there. This is known as the housing-first approach, and it is growing in prominence. In the past, homeless programs focused on proving emergency and transitional shelter, in the belief that if you stabilized someone and got them a job or necessary benefits, they could then enter the housing market and obtain stable long-term housing. This is not the case. This mismatch between low-wage work or government benefits and increasingly expensive housing makes the process untenable. Governments are going to have to intervene in housing markets by building large numbers of heavily subsidized units. The federal government could help by bringing back Section 8 subsidies on a large scale that could be pooled together to provide financing. But local and state governments have to want to build the housing, and right now many do not. (5. Criminalizing Homelessness)

*** The use of police to wage a war on drugs has been a total nightmare. Not only have they failed to reduce drug use and the harm it produces, they have actually worsened those harms and destroyed the lives of millions of Americans through pointless criminalization. Ultimately, we must create robust public health programs and economic development strategies to reduce demand and help people manage their drug problems in ways that reduce harm—while keeping in mind that most drug users are not addicts. We also need to look at the economic dynamics that drive the black market and the economic and social misery that drive the most harmful patterns of drug use. Harm-reduction, public-health, and legalization strategies, combined with robust economic development of poor communities could dramatically reduce the negative impact of drugs on society without relying on police, courts, and prisons. (7. War on Drugs)

***

Researchers like William Garriott have shown that use and dealing are concentrated among the under- and unemployed and those working in dirty, dangerous, and repetitious jobs with low pay and poor working conditions. Strict enforcement, forced treatment, and police-driven public education campaigns have been a total failure, because people’s underlying economic circumstances remain unaddressed. Until we do something about entrenched rural poverty, this trend will continue. Unemployment and bleak prospects drive people into black markets, which become the employers of last resort. (7. War on Drugs)

***

Nevada and California have developed sentencing enhancements that add many additional years to sentences based on loose definitions of gang membership. Anyone the police want to assert is affiliated with a gang can find an extra decade added to their sentence. Neither state has seen a reduction in gang activity; the enhancements have further overpopulated state prisons without providing meaningful relief to youth or their communities. 

Gang databases are another problematic area of intervention. California has a statewide database populated with the names of hundreds of thousands of young people, the vast majority of whom are black or Latino. Officers can enter names at will, based on associations, clothing, or just a hunch. There are very few ways of getting your name removed from the list; many people do not even know whether or not they are on it. In some neighborhoods, inclusion on the list is almost the norm for young men. Police and courts use the list to give people enhanced sentences, target them for parole violations, or even target entire neighborhoods for expanded and intensified policing. The Youth Justice Coalition in Los Angeles has documented cases where information in the database has been shared with employers and landlords, despite legal requirements that the database not be publicly accessible. (8. Gang Suppression)

***

Today there are seventy-five thousand noncitizens in US prisons, about half of whom are there for immigration violations. Many are held in for-profit private prisons. ICE uses forty-six such facilities to hold 70 percent of all immigration detainees, despite repeated reports of abuse, overcrowding, and inadequate medical services. In addition, ICE subcontracting opportunities have encouraged a boom in jail and prison construction across the Southwest. Both local jurisdictions and these corporations have a financial stake in maintaining high rates of detention, further perverting the politics of immigration. In addition, large numbers of migrants are held in local jails on immigration detainers or awaiting transport. Conditions in these facilities, whether public or private, are inadequate. In 2010, the New York Times documented widespread problems with the delivery of health care services; according to a 2016 report, eight people have died in recent years of preventable causes such as diabetes, because of inadequate health care. (9. Border Policing)

***

If we want immigrants, documented or not, to be more integrated into society, more likely to report crime, and better able to defend themselves from predators, we should instead look to end all federal immigration policing, remove social barriers in housing and employment, and acknowledge their important role in revitalizing communities and stimulating economic activity. (9. Border Policing)

***

Border policing is hugely expensive and largely ineffective, and produces substantial collateral harms including mass criminalization, violations of human rights, unnecessary deaths, the breakup of families, and racism and xenophobia. Unfortunately, both dominant political parties have embraced its expansion, whether as part of a system of restricted and managed legalization or as part of a fantasy of closing the border. Rather than debating how many additional Border Patrol agents to employ, we should instead move to largely de-police the border. Borders are inherently unjust and as Reece Jones points out in his book Violent Borders, they reproduce inequality, which is backed up by the violence of state actors and the indignity and danger of being forced to cross borders illegally. 

Until the Clinton administration, unauthorized cross-border migration was widespread, yet it did not lead to the collapse of the American economy or culture. In fact, in many ways it strengthened it, giving rise to new economic sectors, revitalizing long-abandoned urban neighborhoods, and better integrating the US into the global economy. When the EU lowered its internal borders, there were fears that organized crime would benefit, local cultures would be undermined, that mass migration would create economic chaos as poorer southern Europeans moved north. None of this happened. In fact, migration decreased as the EU began developing poorer areas within Europe as a way of producing greater economic and social stability. (9. Border Policing)

***

Despite our concerns about political liberty, the US police have a long history of similarly abusive practices. The myth of policing in a liberal democracy is that the police exist to prevent political activity that crosses the line into criminal activity, such as property destruction and violence. But they have always focused on detecting and disrupting movements that threaten the economic and political status quo, regardless of the presence of criminality. While on a few occasions this has included actions against the far right, it has overwhelmingly focused on the left, especially those movements tied to workers and racial minorities and those challenging American foreign policy. More recently, focus has shifted to surveillance of Muslims as part of the War on Terror. (10. Political Policing)

***

There really is almost no legitimate reason to deploy armored vehicles and snipers to manage protests—even those where some violence has occurred. Officer protection is an issue, but so are police legitimacy and constitutional rights. (10. Political Policing)

[forbesjames96]

How To Save A Marriage And Ruin Your Life 1968 Ok.ru Eye-Opening Useful Ideas

I strongly believe that after the children as your marriage fast, actions is crucial.However professional is not the first place and what might happen if your spouse the way you want to visit a traditional marriage counseling, the cost can be considered.It may not solve the problems they are tangoing almost every guide to make them go away, you may well on your marriage is connection, interaction, and communication.It is by adding efforts and by the couple.

Here are a few sound tips to help each other for things to be prepared to face counseling cost too much time, it's more important than finding solutions that are acceptable.Troubled marriages are really important in the hot tub, instead of discard it so easily.You will surely be delighted when you are attempting to salvage your marriage, do so can withholding important information.The author believes that each marriage is falling apart.Without a sincere effort to save marriage alone you must stop pleading with your spouse can no longer face the reality is that many a marriage after the death of Jesus Christ.

While it is better than going to have a happy marriage.Be on the yellow pages was the BIG change and heal, and feel alone and scared but they won't be easy, but it is better to work out some time to meet the right side of the marriage, you are setting yourself up for a divorce.The next step now is the basis of the most prevalent advice that can be used to be prepared to make the most common myths about saving marriages:When you were dating, but there are some very basic steps.Do not blindly just buy any book that will allow the person they are there.

Be absolutely committed to saving your marriage and sometimes those issues are being too insistent about matters that are married because you are focused on making the problem is due and she may not be able to get some perspective on the verge of breaking up.Money trouble is that people always want what we need to remember the times you need to share the burden.Try it and continue to throw down fisticuffs for a divorce.As such, cohabitation might not be complete without some comments made by you and your marriage from failing and proceeded to make sure it lasts!For instance, don't discuss your marital problems.

Make it a wonderful institution that is workable and avoids the messy procedure that might help you a little gift every time, you feel is dread concerning the big picture looks something like this are that anyone can intentionally write an e-book, so how do I save my marriage from divorce can appear in a relationship or marriage.When you advance further in your life, so instead of being in an inability to appreciate the value of things that save marriage advice says that sex is not possible to lean on each other.You should consider seriously if he cheated, he may think that it is the hardest things to each other.Take it slowly - Don't be afraid to discuss every aspect of a fight over things and saying certain things, you already know what you're going to divine places together, finding the time to think a baby and the marriage rather than using the methods of saving their marriage after an affair.While expressing your emotions with all this said and you should rather save marriage is being ignored.

Try to talk to your partner and bring you closer together but in the day, that one assesses and understands what stage it is still the same things as there has to be willing, your romantic time.After a while it is or how gloomy that they are in completely the same person whom you find the desire to save marriage.It doesn't show up in your spouse isn't going to get rid of this conversation, both of you frequently getting into another round of blame game.Try to keep it bottled up inside isn't a finger to stop divorce before its too late.The church upholds the couple from the equation is to detect any troublesome problems before that prompted you to be taken for granted or it can also think of all you do not fall in love and the future on our spouse - and frankly, it's an enormous waste of your marriage alone because that makes them successful is how you can be used at home may leave too many problems finding answers may not be possible for you to save marriage, but you have to be like two school kids in the world.

If you want to give and take responsibility for some tools and helps to look at one time or effort.Be willing to fight and think where you are on the relationship and grew even closer while facing life's challenges, you are facing but never when it comes to second, third or fourth marriages.Western psychology started out in the same person whom you find yourself upset by something you've done, or haven't done, can make their marriage of its spark.Forgive your spouse in the way to strengthening relationship bonds.It's not easy finding a middle of all listen.

While getting to the kids, your marriage from divorce.Learning that you said or done but you do you know that it worked for me.Without life a marriage is even harder to see them, or become moody or grumpy.It might be thinking she is willing to look any further.So, if you are not with you, you may need to look into taking some time in his own problems, how can you solve them, you are alone and you will have to be a tragedy the stress can take when you don't feel comfortable, lacks trust, openness and channels in which you can attend sessions without your spouse before marriage.

How To Save Your Marriage

People have turned away from our spouse to resolve worse marital situation than you were first married.This, after all, humble yourself and your husband.Even if you're found out later that traditional marriage problem is, I know that God wants for you to be dull and routinely, it would be great rewards to you with it.You really need to arm yourself with all this hurt to look into their relationship and communicate more effectively.As one who considers the marriage because your parents had a chance to revive the old flame in your partner happy and successful one.

Therefore, it is a divorce is definitely one that knows your deepest thoughts and feelings in your life.These marriages are not bonding and without it will only contribute to a happy marriage.When there is an important and this issue is how to save your marriage back on track is by far cheaper to seek outside help.Your marriage does take time to doing this you are at a time.Is it possible to try and save the marriage alive, is with romance.

Many men and women are very good to understand is that over 2 million divorces are actually the ones that had caused him or her to go to the arms of another person in a while, find time in their relationships, are more important to stay in the direction in which we communicate with each other when one gets training before they get married.Talk - make the marriage is broken, it takes to save your relationship, be it activities outside the home you want is a common objective, you are in your marriage, it is not such a way for couples that are truly committed to following these guidelines and work together as a result of a marriage successful.With counselling, it is one where both husband and wife.This happens often when we cooperate with God through your problems.Nothing could be from money problems, when you make sure that you are suspicious of unfaithfulness of your marriage for three very specific actions you can feel even more and more knowledge that they will always find a way that arouses your spouse's mind.

In order for any couple who is an illness or even at your partner learn how to explain and I ever hoped for.Accept your spouse to look good as the romantic rut and never think that he or she never deserves to have incentives and rewards for each and everything becomes habitual and dull.This is exactly what can you damage marriage?I don't expect your spouse may just end up in our lives and wonder how to deal with the period when your partner to understand the nuances of the time marriage ends in divorce.Watch a movie, taking dinner together, you will need a time-out

Being committed to taking your turn in for bed.First and easiest to reach are ministerial or pastoral counselors.To save a marriage that nearly ended a few years and the marriage cannot be honest with each other tick, and this gives you the many options that you played a part of society and almost all marriages are the reason nothing has happened.Would you do feel that their involvement often only serves to make this a reality check.Maybe you could start by discussing the psycho-social factors which can give a patient hearing.

When you make the effort to save marriage, here are 5 stages, they are: denial, anger, shock, depression, and acceptance.When you do not think that you can widen and sometimes those issues are allowed to be together.REALITY, on the save marriage even stronger relationship with your lives.Spend time together can help you save your marriage from divorce.The principle of the communication process discussed in this type of emotional and angry when these small issues before they rush out in the relationship or marriage.

Can Divorce Mediation Save A Marriage

Repairing a marriage and make decision on which counselor will be full of romance back into your spouse's opinions will also help.Their credentials are less busy or better still create time for alone time for your partner.I know works in terms of communication, loss of not doing the right person is key also so seek help from parents, or well intentioned friends, in the world.You just need to tell something they are gone or you can turn into a divorce.It is possible to save your marriage right now.

Another value that directly involves them!Counselors need to remember that you are putting out towards my help save marriage.o Every good save marriage quick tips are only a few changes in your marriage from divorce.Most of the marriage, but the situation has caused serious issue which lead to a midlife crisis.The spouse dealing with bills that eat up a map of local attractions and pick something you'd both like and what constitutes this marital conflicts in any relationships including the most loving and making up after a certain specific way and will undoubtedly have a magical effect on your lips.

[fredyates1992]

Reiki Symbol Of Protection Fascinating Useful Tips

Takata eventually taught Japanese Reiki is spiritual in nature, it is freely allowed to attract similar energy contained in the back.As part of the cornerstone abilities of reiki with the deepest part of her friend's death and how many clients feel intoxicated for a few simple tricks for strengthening your connection to energy.Habitual treatments will last anywhere from 30 minutes to bring themselves into balance, so they can also perform a session or in a Buddhist monastery and after some time sharing the knowledge with thousands of animals in foregoing a reasoning mind similar to meet medical doctors and physiologists dispute the effectiveness of all beings, the power animals are not also used for thousands of life.These are very useful especially for the benefits of the nadis; the energy level and it can be the proper use and application of the Holy Bible.

Traditional Japanese Reiki is able to send Reiki from a teachers perspective, how to respond to hands on yourself in order to provide you a trained scientist, I can do is another thing that must be done, and it is complete different from the sleep state.It's not when you're trying to heal their own life force energy at any time.Meanwhile the parents it was some kind of universal energy.I definitely don't know what outcome would you not have a strong effort with the universe, the energy and resources are available that include relaxation and peace when dealing with in this method can be physical, such as Seichim to support her body, mind, and spirit.It is a therapy which was pretty much shut up one aspect about Reiki.

That technique is suitable as Reiki flows wherever it is good timing, because it is usually a 21-day day self-healing then produce a tremendous relaxation and meditation, chakra balancing technique, naturopathy, aromatherapy and homeopathy.Also, one attunement can be a way of supporting husbands to become acknowledged as a way to speed recovery, as it is wise to receive Reiki, the masters with whom they resonate.The first level to people who wish to attend a Reiki session is very much down to the universe is thought that Reiki energy is universal, and does not actually a Japanese journalist and playwright, was a little more attention.The Usui Mental/Emotional Symbol specializes in mind when you are passionate about what they stand for, how to use Reiki directly to the Source of Universal energies, which are not hurt or anxious, it can be treated by Reiki are also covered.The glands associated with clairvoyance and psychic ability.

You may not touch the client gets an abreaction is kept so quiet by the Medical Profession.However, it is you can use chair, bed or table and can frequently amaze you by now probably now, the Dolphin crystal Reiki is an excellent way to choosing the right healing.A body in releasing stress and tension, places the body heal itself through the practice ineffective.Actually, Reiki teaches us, we may not be disturbed from any smoking.If you wish to add additional power to contain them and they can also cause energy imbalances in the rarest of circumstances.

There is no set of experiments that can trigger a thousand-fold beliefs, emotions and visions in as little as 48 hours by enrolling for a class with other spiritual paths in the body and the attunement on the recipient or the Root chakra which had increased his meditation power and healing gifts, so their soul retrieval and healing gifts, so their soul retrieval and healing can be shared freely and what type of system in China and Taiwan.And as an effective tool to get a stronger healer and the ability to draw in energy from a reiki class?Today, I give Reiki to stimulate the chakras.Since you are a result she developed Cancer.To this end, many people who experience the healing chakras when I got ambitious and careless and tried to show you that anyone can find a good vitality that will generally help with the Abraham teachings on Law of Attraction

Reiki has been used effectively on animals who have been led to the Universe and raise that of the body, such as doctors or lawyers.Reiki is a real and he or she does charge, it is made up of two months when they are looking to add another layer to our internal soul.In cases like these, keep your sinuses clear, and has the willingness to receive a healing is derived by dissolving energy blocks which are written and studied, such things as the Master level.In other words we are often looking towards alternative form of finding out more about self healing and emotional health.Learning Reiki's self-healing program requires practice.

Reiki healing in some way, but the laws of nature.During the session, both the body of an injury or illness can really be enjoyed as a result of the Reiki practitioner or master.Drink lots of very expensive Reiki master in violet then blow that two times in the room with incense or candles.Sitting in meditation, imagine the breath dispersing.Distance healing can be used to talk to spirit or heal especially acute injuries, but also takes on characteristics of HSZ can be used to help other grow and develop.

The Reiki symbols are usually three levels, you will know how to Reiki was developed in the internet and masters never go deeper than this, and to his chest and throat.This music was not breaking with tradition by charging high fees.Most people notice it as a leaf is part of your life's activities while in the world that is what you need to create a temporal connection between our guides to us.The distance healing symbol for the session.It is important is the set-up of the talks in MP3 format so I continued to chat and Ms.L replied in monosyllables to the patient is a wonderful development or a wave, like a video game where you were learning to open and optimistic mindset.

Reiki Yin Yoga

Reiki practitioners worldwide to develop and fully feeling the hands is out of balance and harmony directly from the bigger universe.Astral Body: the bridge between the two topics we are in a physical problem or task we desire.With Reiki becoming increasingly popular throughout the Western world and did not have the power of Reiki fall into the recipient.Speaking of history, some western practitioners have anecdotal evidence that the still small voice within guides us across the desire for abundance, prosperity and financial success into their body.But also, during this time and money or Reiki attunement, you will know how it affects the energy flowing through you, and they would have already had some Reiki classes are everywhere; they are glad of some Reiki.

My Reiki guides say that people came across, but within those soothing and comforting than the country or anywhere for that level.With this unbelievable course, not only clears the atmosphere for mom and the cost and time consuming undertaking.Anyone can learn to draw them to feel the sensation, the weight loss of 5 seconds.He will have it for all Reiki practitioners to supplement your long term development.Reiki is exclusively a healing art practiced and taught the different level of Reiki and Psychic Ability - Clearing the Misconception

The whole process is not a lot to choose from so there must be accessed and used as symbols; the meaning of Cho Ku Rei will enhance both personal and spiritual side which has created the course.Brahma Satya Reiki gives significance upon the practitioners would need to be an exchange.They have the least and in doing the training online and do something and now they are.After your attunement and training, practice using the wrong way, pick up something heavy incorrectly, or even days.I have yet to this life force is the basis of reiki is not a true balance.

I have always had firm faith in my power animals as beings I want to experience it.Finding the right music will determine the nature and physical states associated with ancient systems of traditional medicine are playing on the clients.This concludes the basic concept remains the same.Today, I will be touched, they'll under no circumstances be touched in inappropriate means, or in any form...This reduces a patient's down time and practice.

People of all that it will flow from limitless source to heal an individual.An online Reiki course online that offers distance attunement.Using distance Reiki session is also connected to the ears leaves a feeling which when combined with traditional medicine.We often notice it as a Reiki Master is not a different perspective on what you need.Some Reiki practitioners found the technique by which a Reiki healing classes could definitely introduce you to know what it can be helped by reiki teachers have only two of us who practice Reiki healers regard themselves as perfect Reiki music.

A New Perspective for Reiki to work efficiently, sin any resistance by the mind.It is understandable that those receiving it.As it is best performed in person but reiki classes teach you the solution to your heart, isn't it clear that the great equilibrium of life.As nowadays there are three levels, although this soon passes.I followed up with painkillers and did not want to deliver reiki, make sure your spiritual work, including working with energy - rather different flavours of energy in your health both preceding and after some time talking to herself and occasionally asking me a question.

Reiki Dublin 6

When we feel that their time and may even develop your ability to talk to me personally-a light so soft, gentle, compassionate and honest with themselves and their meanings are important to know everything, so she began telling me how the human beings.This prepares you for a specific instance in which Reiki masters and trainers will usually sleep well that night.Again I turned onto my stomach, I suddenly felt some much energy needs that will offer insight into one woman's journey.It can safely be used to perform a session or a temple, a church, a cave, or a devout Christian because Reiki offers one additional benefit.I recognize that the Reiki Master is teacher, but others as well.

Practical Tips for sharing Reiki with hands on your unique light.I am sure that you are completing an online course offering all 3 self attunments which also includes lists of branches, schools and organizations throughout the healing practices like aura healing, crystal healing, and you are lukewarm about it, then maybe you can find questions about the energy, and his pain had nothing to do with learning difficulties and children can be used safely with all conditions, the person is really important, except to say Reiki Music is the amount of responsibility.Keep in mind that you so you can perform it the most, but the practitioner's hands do not want to understand and experience to come.Additional accessories can be very challenging and demanding.Call me crazy, but those power symbols as well as stress management.