#* trial offer pending

[reality-detective]

On this day in 1992, Randy Weaver and his family were attacked by Federal law enforcement at their home on Ruby Ridge in Boundary County, Idaho. What began on that day would quickly become known as one of the most egregious examples of Federal police tyranny in the nation's history. 👇

Randall Claude Weaver, who preferred to be called Pete as he hated his given name, was born in Villisca, Iowa to poor farming parents. One of four children, his family was extremely religious, though they often struggled to find a denomination that fit their beliefs. In 1968, Weaver dropped out of high school and enlisted in the US Military. 👇

While home on leave, he met his future wife, Victoria "Vicki" Jordison. In 1971, Weaver left the Army at the rank of Sergeant and a month later, he and Vicki were married. Randy quickly enrolled in Community College with the goal of becoming an FBI agent, but the high cost of tuition prevented him from completing school. He found work at the local John Deere factory while his wife became a homemaker as they began having children. 👇

Over time, they began developing a deeper and deeper distrust of the government, and Vicki began having "visions" that the Apocalypse was coming. The family decided their only option was to move off the grid. They spent time among the Amish, learning how to live without electricity. Then they emptied their life savings of $5000 to buy the small mountain property in northern Idaho. 👇

In 1984, their troubles began. Randy had a falling out with neighbor Terry Kinnison, over a $3,000 land deal. Kinnison lost the ensuing lawsuit and was ordered to pay Weaver an additional $2,100 in court costs and damages. Kinnison took his vengeance in letters written to the FBI, Secret Service, and county sheriff, claiming that Weaver had threatened to kill Pope John Paul II, President Ronald Reagan, and Idaho governor John Evans. 👇

Randy and Vicki Weaver were interviewed by the FBI, Secret Service, and the County Sheriff. Police were told that Weaver was a member of the white supremacist Aryan Nation and that he had a large gun collection in his cabin. Weaver denied the allegations, and no charges were filed. 👇

The Weavers filed an affidavit in 1985, claiming their enemies were plotting to provoke the FBI into killing them. The couple wrote a letter to President Reagan, claiming a threatening letter may have been sent to him, over a forged signature. No such letter ever materialized but, seven years later, prosecutors would cite the 1985 note as evidence of a Weaver family conspiracy against the government. 👇

One of the Weaver's neighbors, Frank Kumnick, was a member of the Aryan Nation, and invited Randy to attend a World Aryan Congress in 1986. Unknown to either man was that Kumnick was already a target of the ATF. 👇

While at this "Congress", Weaver met a man posing as a gun dealer who was actually an undercover ATF agent. Randy invited this man to his home to discuss forming a resistance group against what they called the "Zionist Occupation Government". 👇

Later that same year, the ATF would charge Weaver with selling that informant two sawed-off shotguns. 👇

The ATF offered to drop all charges, as long as Randy was willing to become a confidential informant. Randy refused. The indictments came down shortly after, claiming that Randy was a "bank robber" with an extensive criminal history. These allegations were of course fabricated. However, Randy was still arrested and then released, pending trial. 👇

Trial was set for February 20, 1991 and subsequently moved to February 21, due to a federal holiday. Weaver’s parole officer sent him a letter, erroneously stating that the new date was March 20. A bench warrant was issued when Weaver failed to show in court, for the February date. Randy was, despite being completely unaware of it, officially labeled a fugitive from justice. 👇

The U.S. Marshals Service agreed to put off execution of the warrant until after the March 20 date, but the U.S. Attorney’s Office called a grand jury, a week earlier. It’s been said that a grand jury could indict a ham sandwich and the adage proved true, particularly when the prosecution failed to reveal parole officer Richins’ letter, with the March 20 date.

The episode fed into the worst preconceptions, of both sides. Marshalls developed a “Threat Profile” on the Weaver family and an operational plan: “Operation Northern Exposure”. Weaver, more distrustful than ever, was convinced that if he lost at trial, the government would seize his land and take his four children leaving Vicki, homeless. 👇

Federal surveillance of Ruby Ridge began. Marshalls attempted to negotiate over the following months, but Weaver refused to come out. Several people used as go-betweens, proved to be even more radical than the Weavers themselves. In a rare show of reason under the circumstances, Deputy Marshal Dave Hunt asked Weaver neighbor Bill Grider “Why shouldn’t I just go up there … and talk to him?” Grider replied, “Let me put it to you this way. If I was sitting on my property and somebody with a gun comes to do me harm, then I’ll probably shoot him.” 👇

On April 18, 1992, a helicopter carrying media figure Geraldo Rivera for the Now It Can Be Told television program was allegedly fired on, from the Weaver residence. Surveillance cameras then being installed by US Marshalls showed no such shots fired and Pilot Richard Weiss, denied the story.  Even so, a lie gets around the world, before the truth can get its pants on. (Hat tip, Winston Churchill, for that bit of wisdom). The ‘shots fired narrative’ now became a media feeding frenzy. The federal government drew up ‘rules of engagement’👇

On August 21st, 1992, six Deputy US Marshalls entered the property to provide ground level reconnaissance and choose a spot to ambush and arrest Weaver. Deputy Marshall Art Roderick threw rocks at the cabin to see how the dogs would react. The cabin was at this time out of meat and, thinking the dog’s reaction may have been provoked by a game animal, Randy, a friend named Kevin Harris and Weaver’s 14-year-old son Samuel came out with rifles, to investigate. Vicki, Rachel, Sarah and baby Elisheba, remained in the cabin. 👇

When Striker discovered the team's locations, on of the Marshalls shot and killed the dog. This caused a brief firefight. By the time the shooting stopped, Deputy US Marshall William Degan had been shot and killed by Harris. Tragically, 14 year old Sammy was also dead, shot in the back by the Marshalls while trying to help his dog. 👇

The situation quickly spiraled. The National Guard was called in, as well as SWAT teams and helicopters. The Weavers moved Sammy's body into a small shed near the main house, then retreated into the house. 👇

The next day, August 22nd, Weaver and his 16 year old daughter Sarah, along with Harris, left the main house to enter the shed Sammy's body lay. FBI sniper Lon Horiuchi fired from a position some 200 yards distant. The bullet tore into Weaver’s back and out his armpit. The three raced back to the cabin. Horiuchi’s second round entered the door as Harris dove for the opening, injuring him in the chest before striking Vicki in the face as she held baby Elisheba, in her arms. Vicki did not survive. 👇

Two days later, FBI Deputy Assistant Director Danny Coulson wrote the following memorandum, unaware that Vicki Weaver lay dead:

“Something to Consider

1. Charge against Weaver is Bull Shit.

2. No one saw Weaver do any shooting.

3. Vicki has no charges against her.

4. Weaver’s defense. He ran down the hill to see what dog was barking at. Some guys in camys shot his dog. Started shooting at him. Killed his son. Harris did the shooting [of Degan]. He [Weaver] is in pretty strong legal position.” 👇

The siege of Ruby Ridge would drag on for ten days. Kevin Harris was brought out on a stretcher on August 30, along with Vicki’s body. Randy Weaver emerged the following day. Subsequent trials acquitted Harris of all wrongdoing and Weaver of all but his failure to appear in court, for which he received four months and a $10,000 fine. 👇

In August 1995, the US government avoided trial on a civil lawsuit filed by the Weavers by awarding the three surviving daughters $1,000,000 each, and Randy Weaver $100,000 over the deaths of Sammy and Vicki Weaver. Randy would pass away on May 11, 2022, after a long illness.

The atrocity at Ruby Ridge would not be the end of the story. Six months later, many of the same agents would be involved at the siege of the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas.

The story of the Weaver family and Ruby Ridge reminds us all that just wanting to be left alone is often not an option. The Federal government, in particular the FBI, ATF, and US Marshalls, used deception, outright lies, and terroristic tactics, all in an attempt to entrap a man who refused to become an informant against his neighbors. 👇

History is not what we were told. Everything is a fμ¢%in' lie. 🤔

Posted August 21, 2024

[erectile-disgruntlement]

TW: suicidal thoughts and law enforcement

I had an interview at my local Safeway today and they offered me the job pending a background check. I thought I should be honest about my criminal history because if they're going to do a background check, I might as well not lie about it and make myself look worse. That was the wrong fucking decision. They decided the harassment conviction that I self reported along with my "rehabilitation" plans of weekly therapy and the phone number of the victim in the case were just too horrible for me to be hired. This is the only fucking place that would give me 4 hour shifts and I'm so fucking tired. I just want to be done with that stupid fucking conviction.

In July of last year, I called 911 on my partner after he grabbed a knife and threatened to kill himself after he ruptured my eardrum. For reasons completely beyond me, the police decided to arrest me and throw my ass in jail. It was like 9-10 am and I still had to wait till 1 pm the next day to see a judge. I wasn't given any of my medications that night despite them having them and my heart rate being in the 150's or higher the entire night.

The fucking trauma didn't stop after I got out though because I still had fucking criminal charges against me. We had a plea deal made up that would expunge the charges after I was on unsupervised probation for a year. And then the day of my fucking sentencing, they switched DAs and that flew out of the window. I was also originally charged with both harassment and assault, but the assault charge was dropped, so the new DA decided to threaten that if I pleaded not guilty and it went to trial, they would add the assault charge back on.

I was basically forced to plead guilty without a plea deal. Thankfully, the judge took pity on me or something so she just gave me 12 months bench probation and ordered me to continue the therapy I was already doing instead of giving me 18 months and making me go to a batters group like the DA wanted.

At this fucking point I'm genuinely contemplating suicide not because I actually want to die, but just because I know I don't have to worry about this shit if I'm dead.

[homosexuhauls]

MEXICO CITY (AP) — A Mexican woman who killed a man defending herself when he attacked and raped her in 2021 was sentenced to more than six years in prison, a decision her legal defense called “discriminatory” and vowed to appeal Tuesday.

The ruling against Roxana Ruiz spurred anger from experts and feminist groups who said it speaks to the depth of gender-based violence and Mexico’s poor record of bringing perpetrators of sexual violence to justice.

“It would be a bad precedent if this sentence were to hold. It’s sending the message to women that, you know what, the law says you can defend yourself, but only to a point,” said Ángel Carrera, her defense lawyer. “He raped you, but you don’t have the right to do anything.”

The Associated Press does not normally identify sexual assault victims, but Ruiz has given her permission to be identified and participates in public demonstrations led by activists who support her.

While the Mexico State court found Monday that Ruiz had been raped, it said the 23-year-old was guilty of homicide with “excessive use of legitimate defense,” adding that hitting the man in the head would have been enough to defend herself. Ruiz was also ordered to pay more than $16,000 in reparations to the family of the man who raped her.

In May 2021, Ruiz was working selling french fries in Nezahualcoyotl, one of the 11 municipalities in the Mexico State with an ongoing gender alert for femicides and another one for forced disappearances of women.

While having a beer with a friend, Ruiz, a Indigenous Mixteca woman and a single mother from the state of Oaxaca, met a man she had seen around the neighborhood. After hanging out, he offered to walk her home and later asked to stay the night because it was late and he was far from home.

Ruiz agreed to let him sleep on a mattress on the floor. But while she slept he climbed onto her bed, hit her, tore off her clothes and raped her, according to Carrera, Ruiz’s legal defense. Ruiz fought back and hitting him in the nose, and he threatened to kill her. In the struggle to free herself she killed him in self defense, Carrera said.

In a panic, Ruiz put the man’s body in a bag and dragged it out to the street where passing police arrested her.

Despite telling police she had been raped, Carrera said a forensic exam was never taken, a crucial step in prosecuting sexual violence cases. Instead, an officer responded that she probably wanted to have sex with the man at first and then changed her mind, he said.

“I regret what I did, but if I hadn’t done it I would be dead today,” Ruiz told the AP in an interview last year, adding, “It’s evident that the state wants to shut us up, wants us to be submissive, wants us closed up inside, wants us dead.”

Women’s rights groups have repeatedly accused Mexican authorities of revictimizing survivors and failing to judge cases with a gender perspective.

Ruiz spent nine months in jail on charges of homicide with excess of legitimate self-defense, and was finally released to await trial.

The court responded to public outcry of the sentencing Wednesday, saying the judge did examine the case with a gender perspective. It also noted that a blow to the head during the struggle left the man unconscious at one point, saying the court found that was “enough to contain the physical aggression.”

The woman’s lawyer said the court’s defense “is totally false.” Carrera said that while there was some evidence the attacker received a blow to the head, it was never proven the man lost consciousness. He said the defense hopes to challenge the court’s statement in its appeal.

Despite the sentencing, Ruiz still remains free pending further judicial steps.

Nearly half of Mexican women have experienced sexual violence in their lifetime, government data shows.

In 2022, the Mexican government registered a total of 3,754 women – an average of 10 a day – who were intentionally killed, a significant jump from the year before. Only a third were investigated as femicides.

That number is likely just a fraction of the real number due to rising disappearances and lack of reporting of violence in the country.

Angelica Ospina, gender fellow for International Crisis Group in Mexico, said she worries that the sentencing may empower victimizers while discouraging women from reporting gender-based violence or defend themselves.

The case points to just how “normalized” gender-based violence is in Mexico and other parts of Latin America, Ospina said.

“When a woman defends herself, the system is particularly efficient in processing and sentencing her without taking into consideration the conditions in which she killed the man,” Ospina said.

Meanwhile, outside the courtroom, women carried signs and chanted “justice!” A tearful Ruiz stood before the crowd, thanking feminist groups and the women who had supported her through the years-long judicial process.

Speaking to the crowd, she thought of her 4-year-old son.

“My son, I hope to see him again. I hope to stay with him, to be the one who watches him grow up,” Ruiz said.

[pinturas-sgm-aviacion]

1938 Fiat BR20 Cicogna Japan vs Polikarpov I-152 China - Stan Hajek

In July 1937, when Japan entered into full-scale war with China (the Second Sino-Japanese War), the Japanese Army Air Force found itself short of modern long-range bombers, pending the delivery of the Mitsubishi Ki-21 "Sally", which was undergoing prototype trials at the time, and thus required the interim purchase of aircraft from abroad. Italy was willing to give priority to any Japanese orders over its own requirements, and offered both the Caproni Ca.135 and the BR.20 bombers in order to meet their needs. Following an evaluation of both aircraft by the Japanese, it was determined that while the Caproni could not meet the Japanese requirements, the BR.20 closely matched the specification. In addition, the BR.20 had acquired a positive reputation as a relatively fast and durable aircraft in combat during the Spanish Civil War. Accordingly, during late 1937, an initial order was placed by Japan for 72 BR.20s; this was soon followed by another order for a further 10 bombers.During early 1938, the first BR.20 were shipped to Dalian, Liaoning, in Japanese-controlled Northeast China, after which they were transported on for assembly and flight testing purposes. In Japanese service, the BR.20 (designated the I-Type (Yi-shiki)) was used to supplement and eventually replace the obsolete Mitsubishi Ki-1, equipping a pair of bomber groups (the 12th and 98th Sentai) located in Manchuria. The I-Type was heavily deployed on long-range bombing missions against Chinese cities and supply centers during the winter of 1938–39. The BR.20s were operating with no fighter cover at the extremes of their range and consequently incurred heavy losses from Chinese fighters, as did the early Ki-21s that shared the long-range bombing tasks.

[britishassistant]

A Fruit of Several Trees

Kristoph Gavin considers many things, once the fugue of rage has died down somewhat.

He is currently being transported to the detention center in the back of a police vehicle. He has been cuffed, but not tightly, as some in the world of law enforcement still recognize that respect paid to him is worth its weight in gold. The attitude of the officer driving the car is more akin to that of a chauffer than a guard.

He is under arrest, pending trial, for the murder of Shadi “Smith”.

He has found himself in this situation thanks to the manipulation of novice Apollo Justice by failed ex-attorney Phoenix Wright.

He never should have allowed this farce to continue to this extent. When Wright asked for representation, he should have insisted that a close friend appealing to Gavin and Co. get not less than Gavin himself, no matter the client’s preferences. Certainly not an impressionable, inexpert, indecisive rookie. Not a young man who could be led by the nose until Wright had enacted this, this mockery of spiteful pettiness.

Kristoph takes a breath.

When the red has receded somewhat from his vision, he considers some other aspects that captured his attention.

He considers the warring guilt and conviction on Justice’s face as Kristoph was led from the courtroom.

He considers the look on Wright’s. That damn smug smirk, as if he were somehow better than Kristoph for getting the court to accept evidence that couldn’t exist. That was—is!—fraudulent.

He considers the way Wright looked at Justice. Conniving, grasping glances, like a dog guarding a piece of meat it wishes to devour alone. Or a castaway who doesn’t want to share the only means of survival.

Wright wants something from the boy, and wants it dearly to boot. Whether it’s merely a patsy who can appear in court in place of the disbarred disgrace, or a more…prurient desire.

Except that does not quite do the situation justice, does it?

Of all the lawyers in Gavin & Co., it was Justice, the newly promoted intern, that Wright asked for. Lacchè and Günstling were the most experienced behind Kristoph himself, although both would throw themselves on the pyre before they ever admitted he was culpable (a fact he planned to take advantage of for his appeal). Ingadozó is talented and easily swayed, though was perhaps too overly cautious for Wright’s goals. But Vichy would gladly have played along with this farce for the chance to oust his employer and rule the roost. Yung was the newest off the bar after Apollo, if all Wright wanted was an inexperienced mouthpiece who’d sing to his tune.

But no. Of all the attorneys Gavin and Co. had to offer, Wright selected the one who’d never even taken a case before and refused all others.

Though it isn’t like Kristoph doesn’t understand the appeal.

Apollo Justice is thorough, hard-working, and earnest.

He is analytical enough that he can pick up on the merest hint of a cue and doesn’t need to be led by the hand to the conclusions it would be best to draw. But he is also eager to please, aware and afraid of his own naïveté, which makes him look to his superior for those cues to begin with.

Terrified of failure. Petrified of abandonment.

He is, in short, as fine a pawn as Kristoph could ever hope for.

But if Wright is determined to use him, then Kristoph must remove him from the board.

It is regrettable, he thinks, that he’s been forced to this point. He has liked working alongside Mr. Justice, molding him into an attorney worthy of Gavin and Co.

He’s even enjoyed their non-work interactions, which is more than he can say for most people.

Morning greetings and evening partings, the occasional shared lunch, a thoughtful if inexpensive card every year for Kristoph’s birthdays, introducing Mr. Justice to some quality alcohol in honor of his twenty-first. Graciously covering for the young man’s hangover the next day, in light of the interesting things he’d told Kristoph about why he’d never partaken of even the weakest substance before he came of age.

Still, while Wright was the one pulling the strings, Justice himself also played a role in forcing Kristoph’s hand. There must be consequences for his actions.

When all is said and done, Apollo Justice only has himself to blame for this.

Kristoph Gavin requests to make a call once he reaches the detention center.

It is a call to an international number, and he is on the line for forty four minutes and thirty six seconds.

Afterwards, he returns to his cell a model detainee, if an unnervingly pleased one.

Phoenix Wright feels like he can finally breathe for the first time in seven years.

His work isn’t done, far from it. While MASON has received the tentative go-aheads and sponsorship from the relevant authorities, there’s still plenty of nitty gritty paperwork to be filed and lower level officials to be convinced that this isn’t out of their purview, not really, in fact it could be a great opportunity for them, whaddya say? Care to take a chance on something new?

Although he needs to take care that “Phoenix Wright the washed up poker player” and “Phoenix Wright the foremost jurist system advocate” don’t get mixed up any more than they already have.

Nick grimaces at the memory of the time he accidentally asked a judge if she would “ante up”. The glare he received was enough to make the arctic feel warm and humid.

So, while he still has some issues to sort through as he gets MASON up and running, he can at least do it without Kristoph Gavin breathing down his neck. Looming large over his and Trucy’s lives. Trying to isolate them and drag them down and waiting for the day either of them was careless enough to let their guard slip—!

Well, look who’s laughing now, Gavin. Look who’s laughing now.

He feels bad for Justice, he does, but Nick hardly even felt the punch in the moment, he was so elated. It was everything he could do not to start singing ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead’ right there in the defendant lobby.

Of course, Trucy had to get him a pack of frozen peas later when the pain set in, but even with his cheek bruised and swollen, he couldn’t stop grinning.

He’d had to hold himself back from talking about Justice to her. He needs to confirm a few last things first— he may bluff through a lot in life, but this is something he wants to be 100% certain of before getting his daughter’s hopes up.

Regardless, Apollo Justice is going places. Nick would happily go all in on that bet.

He considers his faint reflection in one of the ministry’s windows.

His old dress shirt is a bit tight around the shoulders, and his feet ache slightly from being encased in socks and too-small dress shoes.

It’s nothing like the old silhouette, sharp shoulders in blue. But it’s business enough that people take him seriously. That they take MASON seriously.

And if he has the knit hat his daughter made him poking out of his shoulderbag, pin dangling…well, everyone has eccentricities.

Nick allows himself a rare smile, made blurry by the glass, before he sets off for his next appointment with a spring in his step.

Things are finally going his way, and nothing can bring him—!

His phone begins beeping out the opening bars of the Steel Samurai theme.

Nick grins at the caller ID, good mood brightening further. “Yello?”

“Wright.”

“Edgeworth!” His delight is tempered by concern at his friend’s tone. “What’s up? Everything good with you?”

“I take it you haven’t heard then.” Edgeworth’s tone is somehow sharper than usual. Urgent. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m at the Ministry of Justice.” Nick says slowly, a sense of dread trickling down his spine. “Why? Edgeworth, what’s wrong?”

“The young attorney who helped bring down Kristoph Gavin has a warrant out for his arrest.”

Phoenix Wright stops dead.

“On what grounds?!” His voice is hoarse with volume.

He’d know if someone tried to take Justice in for assault, they’d have contacted him over pressing charges by now, and Nick hasn’t had to do that since Richard Wellington and his fire extinguisher, so that leaves the disastrous possibility that the kid had turned himself in over the representative evidence which he thought was a forgery, which, okay, kudos for having such an unshakable moral compass, but it’d be tricky for Nick to talk their way out of that one, especially with his current reputation—!

“My contact in Interpol tells me the Kingdom of Khura’in is requesting his immediate extradition.” Edgeworth states, voice steady in the way it only gets when everything’s gone to pot. “On the charges of domestic terrorism and treason.”

Phoenix turns on his heel and runs.

[whomst-the-hell]

outline for a codywan/clone wars arcane au that ive had sitting in my google docs for months lol

act 1

e1

-ani and obi’s parents die, so theyre taken in by failed rebel qui

-years later, theyre attempting to rob a topside townhouse with adoptive siblings cerasi and nield but ani is distracted bc OoOo ✨Science✨ (kyber crystals?) and causes an explosion, leading to a chase

-returning to the undercity, they encounter maul, who chases them leading to ani dumping the stuff (obi isnt a brawler like vi, he’s an excellent duellist — world is still blasters/sabers)

-qui reprimands them, and nield and cerasi mock ani, saying he invaded their con, call him anak-invader, obi shuts them down etc

-qui has a deal w jaster, mand’alor and head of the coruscant guard

-obi and ani bond over the force together

-maul has a meeting w dooku who tests out the new mutagen “darkside” on a rat

e2

-the kyber crystals belong to young noble padme amidala, who brought them with her from naboo which she was forced to flee after military actions by the trade federation, where she was saved by a jedi

-she is trialed before the senate for bringing in force sensitive objects bc the force is forbidden after the sith-jedi wars which brought major destruction (recounted by yoda who now holds a seat on the senate having forsaken the force) (obi and ani r force sensitive, point of conflict later but also bonding?) but palpatine defends her

-she is ordered to destroy the crystals and her research into the old jedi order, but upon returning discovers anakin who has returned and is reading the books. they become friends in secret, and anakin reveals that he’s force sensitive to her

-meanwhile in the undercity, jango attempts to pressure qui gon to give up obi wan, and obi thinks they should fight the enforcers, but realises that anger is the path only to destruction and decides to give himself up

-dooku convinces maul to take darkside

e3

-qui stops obi from turning himself in, offering himself instead

-dooku captures qui, killing jaster in the process

-obi cerasi and nield go to rescue qui, leave ani but obi gives him a flare (or maybe smth w the force?? hmm) (the river rock!!!!!!)

-padme joins the senate, no confidence vote to elect palps chancellor after council refuses to consider the potential of the force tech her and ani figured out w the kyber crystals

-in the undercity, obi&co reach qui

-obi is losing to maul, so qui helps, dying in the process, and obi cuts maul in half

-ani followed w the leftover kyber crystals, but his pain and suffering at being abandoned bleed the crystals and they explode, killing cerasi and nield

-in his grief, obi tells anakin that hes dangerous, and an invader, and anakin runs off to sidious, who’s in the undercity to supervise dooku, who comforts him, while obi is dragged off by enforcers

act 2

e4

-padme is a well liked senator, and has continued to meet up w ani in secret to work on force-tech, though she takes the credit on his demand

-on progress day, she almost unveils ani’s new invention, but falters after remembering a conversation w yoda where he cautioned her against the darkness of the force

-ani, now going by vader, works for sidious via dooku, smuggling “darkside” to coruscant. the operation is interrupted by the firelights (name pending) and one of them is a redheaded boy so vader loses his shit

-cody, rogue enforcer (unwilling to let shit be swept under the rug bc palps covers up the separatists actions) investigates vader

-cody used to be a body guard for padme when they were kids, and theyre still friends

-vader blows up a bunch of shit to make up for his breakdown

-cody finds obi in jail

e5

-cody forges padme’s signature to get obi released, and they work together to find info abt dooku

-obi and cody in the undercity, dex’s, brothel scene etc

-obi tracks down dooku’s 2ic grievous who tells him abt vader, shocking him so that grievous can stab him, but cody saves obi just in time

-jango, cody’s dad, is revealed to be in league w dooku and he frames the firelights for the bombing

-ani and padme sneak off and get married, though vader’s mental state continues to worsen

e6

-padme finds out vader was responsible for the bombings, causing doubt in the relationship, so vader doubles down on forcetech saying that the good he does balances the harm

-yoda objects to the new iterations of forcetech as they could be weaponised, so padme calls to have him removed from the senate

-sidious via dooku, now aware that obi isnt dead, orders jango to kill him. inter-personal shit cody vs jango

-jango presents false evidence of the firelights committing the bombings, so palpatine encourages padme to enforce a blockade on the bridge to the undercity

-vader interrogates grievous, learning of obi’s return

-cody and obi hide out in the slums, where they swap childhood stories

-theyre sold out and dooku finds them, but they escape

-obi sees the blue smoke from the flare he gave ani (feels ani’s need through the riverstone?), and the brothers reunite but vader is possessive and jealous, disliking cody’s presence

-theyre saved by firelights who kidnap cody and obi, leaving vader behind

act 3

e7

-ahsoka is revealed to be the leader of the firelights, who explains that dooku took over the undercity after qui’s death, and vaders whole deal, plus the war on drugs shit going on with darkside.

-the blockade creates tension between ani and padme, as vader is already unstable after the fight w obi. he chokes her, but padme reveals she’s pregnant and he flees

-cody and ahsoka decide to plead the firelight’s case before the senate as they were wrongly blamed for the bombings, but obi leaves to find ani

-jango stops cody and ahsoka on the bridge, shooting ahsoka, and preparing to fight cody. seeing this, obi rushes in to help

-jealous of cody, anakin sets of a bunch of droids which detonate, killing jango and other enforcers

-ahsoka and vader, childhood friends, face off as obi and an injured cody flee topside. ahsoka is not capable of beating him, but ani spares her life and flees, setting off more explosives

e8

-sidious finds vader highly injured, and takes him to be darksided (+cyborged mayhaps??) where vader hallucinates that obi and cody are the ones causing him pain

-cody takes obi wan back to his place to recover, scene w his brothers (rex, fox, wolffe)

-padme talks to palps abt her concern for ani and he prbly gaslights her, says that war is inevitable etc

-yoda, while attempting to offer aid in the undercity, encounters ahsoka and helps her

-cody and obi wan attempt to request aid for the undercity but are rejected, and obi leaves cody

-padme introduces herself to obi, telling him about the marriage and the pregnancy, and she gives him the experimental forcetech lightsaber, which he uses to attack darkside production factories.

-cody is kidnapped by vader

e9

-obi recalls his conviction that violence begets violence, and considers the implications of intra-city war. on his prompting, padme attempts to negotiate with dooku (the separatists want the undercity to be totally independent from coruscant and the senate) in exchange padme wants vader to be released into senate custody (she fr thinks she can fix him)

-vader overhears dooku relaying this to sidious and freaks the fuck out

-obi wan fights grievous, but is then abducted by vader

-obi cody and dooku awaken tied up in the warehouse where qui died (mustafar?) + droids imitating cerasi and nield,

-vader gives obi a blaster saying to kill either cody or vader. obi refuses and vader spirals, killing dooku but aligning himself against obi.

-vader once again bleeds a kyber crystal, firing it at the senate building in a rocket.

sequel

act 1

-impact of final showdown (emergency power, start of the clone wars era)

-Impact of Jango’s death — Cody becomes mand’alor/sherrif?

-Codywan fight consequences and makeup

-Vader & Palpatine villain schemes - instigate all out war between coruscant and the Separatists after they dont meet separatist demands, palpatine running the war, vader on the side of the separatists with the intent of eventually toppling the democratic system entirely

-yoda being like hmmmm maybe good, the force has the potential to be, even in the face of darkness after talking w ahsoka

-start of the war officially

act 2

-Clone wars proper, but 3 chapters so idk,,,

-Cody and Obi Wan investigating palps, figuring shit out, etc

-Padme and ani toxic by britney spears

-Dooku begins catching on and they kill him?

-padme and ahsoka anti war movementing maybe?

act 3

-sidious reveal

-Birth of twins

-Vader sacrifices himself to kill sidious

-happily ever after (obi and cody are in the guard, ahsoka and padme are working together to craft legislative reform, yoda is restarting the jedi order and the principles of old, etc)

Details and extras

*mostly dooku = sevikka

ages

obi 17 25

cody 16 24

ani 11 19

cerasi 17

nield 17

padme 14 22

ashoka 10 18

additional notes

-sunshine instead of cupcake (“but ur so bright… like the sun!”)

-ekko’s clockman is plo koon

-padme and cody friends

cody: our armour is sacred

padme, thinking abt naboo fashion culture: yeah i get it

[cuffmeinblack]

Retribution

Ominis Gaunt x f!OC

ao3 link

Tags: explicit | angst | smut | dark!Ominis | non-canon death | violence | blood | torture | implied non-con | revenge

9k words

Summary: Ominis has kept his romantic involvement with Maerys a secret from his family for her own safety, but a pending betrothal causes complications. Maerys confronts his family with the hope of acceptance but gets more than she bargained for.

A/n: I wrote this for my giveaway winner @huntress-valkyrie with her OC Maerys Baratheon 🖤, originally meant to be under 4k words but I loved the idea so it ended up much longer. Especially the Kaz Brekker quote prompt.

There's also a slightly-spicy, sweet bonus audio.

The past year had been extraordinary in many ways, a year of firsts for Maerys—the start of a career she felt so passionately about, a new place to live away from the castle she had called home for several years. The most remarkable may have been finding her long-held affection for Ominis Gaunt returned tenfold, settling into what could only be described as domestic bliss within a few short months.

Their careers kept them apart for long periods of time, but they both found their way back with increasing fervour, spending the hours they had together living life to the fullest. The minute Maerys opened the door to their shared house, Ominis had scooped her up into his arms, forgoing his interrogation of her day's activities to show her his adoration and remind her that she was his . Though he never said it, he despised that her job in Magical Law Enforcement was so dominated by men, all eager to be on first name terms with the exciting new female investigator.

Ominis' love was more intense than anything she'd expected—once he had admitted his feelings and she had reciprocated, he began courting her with a ferocity that took her breath away. Their love was all consuming and Maerys knew that Ominis would do absolutely anything for her, save one. He would never reveal her existence to his family.

Maerys understood, to some extent, why—their absolute disdain for her kind was well known, and had caused a world of problems for Ominis who had dealt with the tainted Gaunt name. They would never allow him to openly be with someone who they deemed so beneath them; to use their words, a witch with dirty blood . She had fought and fought to tell them but Ominis had refused her for what may have been the very first time. She knew it wasn't a matter of Ominis' shame, but in her darker days the demons reared their ugly heads to convince her otherwise. Today was one of those days.

The past twelve hours had been utterly gruelling; the culmination of months of planning was an arrest of epic proportions involving over a dozen officers from the department, all after an elusive wizard who had thus far managed to defraud hundreds. Their hard work had paid off, and Maerys, whilst exhausted to her bones, was eager to make the most of it. So rarely did her colleagues get to enjoy such a monumental event. 

"We're off to the Leaky Cauldron if you want to join us, Mae," Felicity offered, tucking her wand back into her holster.

"Love to. I don't want to stay too late though…," Maerys replied.

"I know."

Of course they knew—everyone knew that she spent every spare moment she had with Ominis. Their schedules didn't allow for too much of a social life, and whilst she missed having a more active circle of friends, she had priorities. Tonight was a rare opportunity to mingle with the witches and wizards she spent hours with every day, without the constant talk of Ministry bureaucracy.

The Leaky Cauldron was packed to the rafters with those enjoying a post-work beverage to blow off steam; harried-looking wizards in smart, pressed robes and Wizenagamot pins attached to their collars lined the bar looking thoroughly exhausted. Maerys wondered who'd they'd been sentencing—by the looks on their faces, the trial hadn't been an easy one.

"Firewhiskey, please," Maerys directed the barkeeper, who nodded and flicked his wand to pour the deep amber liquid.

"Same," a voice appeared beside her.

"Nicholas," Maerys nodded in greeting at the tall man beside her. 

"Starting on the strong stuff, I like it."

"I have limited time, I may as well make the most of it."

"It's alright to spend a little time away from your guard dog," he said, a hint of distaste in his voice.

Maerys rolled her eyes and threw back the whiskey, signalling for another before it had slid down her throat. Bitterly, she thought that of course, Nicholas would use this opportunity to berate her choice of partner and try to convince her of his own virtues. There was no end to the amount of people in her line of work who had taken an instant dislike to Ominis because of his family name. With a sigh, Maerys knew then that the night would be a long one.

-

"Are you okay?" Ominis' strained voice rang through the hallway.

Maerys closed the door, barely being able to step foot inside before she was clumsily enveloped by Ominis' arms. She sank into the embrace, her muscles releasing the tension they'd held since the day began.

"I'm fine, it went well."

"Where have you been?" Ominis asked with a slight frown. "I was worried sick."

"I'm sorry," Maerys said, cupping his cheek in her hand. "We went to celebrate afterwards."

"Ah."

Ominis' nose flared, a sure sign that he was quietly seething. There was no love lost between Ominis and her colleagues, particularly when they were so openly flirtatious towards her.

That didn't stop him from gripping her waist, or pressing his mouth against those soft, pillowy lips. Nor did his anger stop the desire that coursed through his veins, his possessive brand of love overcoming any and all inhibitions in a frantic need to claim her. The fire in their lovemaking burned so hot it threatened to consume them both in those moments, both wordlessly conveying that they belonged only to each other, forever and always.

As they basked silently in the afterglow, Ominis traced the flame-shaped birthmark on Maerys’ lower back as he often did—the skin textured differently to the surrounding flesh, the rough patch always guided his delicate fingers there. At one point, the attention to the red blemish might have bothered her, but she had since come to love it as much as his own imperfections; the beauty marks that flecked his cheeks and continued down his body reminded her of constellations, something to be celebrated and marvelled at, not hidden away.

“I wanted to discuss something with you…but perhaps now isn’t the most opportune moment,” Ominis said quietly, more to himself than to Maerys.

Her interest piqued, Maerys raised herself up onto her elbows and turned her head to look at Ominis, her mahogany locks cascading onto the pillow below her. Ominis continued his rhythmic stroking of her back, his touch noticeably gentler.

“What is it? Now’s a good a time as any.”

Ominis took a few seconds to collect his thoughts as she waited with bated breath, noticing the way his brows pinched slightly between his eyes and his kiss-swollen lips pursed. The face was familiar, one of either great concentration or great discomfort.

“It’s quite a delicate subject but I promise you I have no intention of fulfilling my obligation.”

Maerys’ heart thumped in her chest and she sat up on the bed, staring down at her beloved with unbelieving eyes. Finally, the day she’d dreaded had come, a mere year into their courtship.

“Who?”

Ominis sighed and lifted himself off the mattress to sit next to Maerys, his fingers tracing her goose pimpled flesh to find her contorted face, cupping her cheek lovingly. 

“A…cousin. I promise you, I have no intention of marrying her, or anyone else.”

“This never would have happened if you didn’t insist on keeping me a secret, Ominis.”

“For your own safety , Maerys.”

“Or for your own convenience?”

“ How can you say that? I want nothing more in this world than to declare my love for you. You must know that by now.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Ominis. Perhaps another day, but I’m exhausted.”

“I’m sorry, my love. I love you…most ardently.”

Maerys had neither the energy or inclination to reply, merely settling back onto the bed and waiting for Ominis, who sighed and lay back a moment later. She may have been able to hold a grudge, but there was no reason why she would deprive herself of his warmth on such a cold day. She told herself that the blustery winds and driving rain outside the window was reason enough to need the extra heat, and certainly not because she craved his comfort.

-

The tension carried on into morning, with Maerys finding herself so distracted making breakfast that a wayward flick of her wand left the kitchen covered in goopy porridge. Ominis took over shortly after that, his eyebrows never fully relaxing as he rolled up his shirt sleeves to prepare them some much-needed fuel.

Maerys watched Ominis cook, as always finding his care and attention to detail entrancing. She quietly sipped her tea, stewing over what he'd divulged the previous evening, and finding herself at a loss as to how to proceed. She was angry— of course at his despicable family but at Ominis , too. 

It was high time his father knew about Maerys and accepted her. Whether or not he would was another issue, but she wouldn't tolerate such a slight as to be so completely unacknowledged. The milky Darjeeling slid down her throat and warmed her stomach as she formed a plan for her day off work and Ominis served their food, none the wiser. He would thank her later, even if it meant a day or two of flared tempers culminating in a passionate reunification.

"Eat up," Ominis said, breaking Maerys out of her daydream.

Ominis rolled down his sleeves and smoothed his waistcoat as he settled at the table. The breakfast was delicious, as it usually was when Ominis prepared it.

“What will you do today?” Ominis asked.

“Oh, I’m…not sure,” Maerys replied evasively.

If Ominis found the answer suspicious or unsatisfactory, he didn’t say, choosing to forgo further argument and concentrate on his food. They ate quickly and Ominis gave himself a final smooth over, grabbing his suitcase and holstering his wand whilst Maerys followed him to the door—a ritual they never deviated from whatever the current mood. They would always say goodbye, the unspoken truth that it could always be the last.

The kiss she gave Ominis was an apology for what she was intending to do; slow and passionate with a heavy admission of love. Ominis' hands wandered over her scantily-clad body, still dressed in only her silk nightdress and a delicate dressing gown. She hadn't intended to distract him so thoroughly, but the low growl in his throat and twitch in his trousers sent her own blood rushing, an ache between her legs so intense she couldn't control the whimper that left her mouth.

Ominis' tongue swept into her mouth, hungry and demanding as his hands kneaded the soft flesh of her breasts through the flimsy fabric. Her nipples responded, peaking under his touch as she moaned longingly into his mouth. Maerys always found Ominis irresistible no matter her mood, and the way his composure broke down around her was a power she never knew she craved.

Her head spun, revelling in the way his erection pressed painfully into her hip, probably soaking his carefully pressed work trousers with arousal that she had brought forth. 

"Shouldn't you be getting to work?" Maerys said teasingly.

"You know full well I can't leave until I've had you now," Ominis replied, a hand slipping underneath her nightdress.

His delicate fingers pushed aside the lacy undergarments and found the pool of slick between her legs and she moaned, stumbling backwards against the hallway wall. Ominis followed, not allowing their contact to break as he resumed the rhythmic grinding of his stiff cock against her. His lips traced her neck as his fingers parted her folds and he dragged his digits lazily across her swollen nub, spreading her arousal.

Maerys met his hand with a movement of her hips, sighing with every brush of his fingers against her most sensitive area. She had no intention of dragging out the encounter, as she watched Ominis' flushed face with lust-filled eyes, her core ached for him. Her hands flew to his thoroughly-dirtied trousers, biting her tongue at the sight of the pooling precum on the straining fabric. She made quick work of his buttons, releasing his thick cock and a moan from his mouth, hot breath against the skin of her neck.

She'd barely wrapped her hand around him before Ominis had spun her around, his length pressing against her behind as he gathered the silk above her hips. He continued to kiss her neck, muttering sweet nothings as he lined himself up with her soaking entrance before pushing the tip inside her slowly, allowing her time to adjust to his size. They moaned together as he slid deeper into her soaking wet hole, her walls clenching eagerly in anticipation of the glorious climax she soon knew she'd be experiencing.

"Fuck , Ominis," Maerys sighed, always surprised at how he managed to make her feel so full .

"You've made me late for work, you know," Ominis said as his cock retreated. 

He slid back inside her, pressing harder and deeper each time. Maerys arched her back into the thrusts, his cock hitting her satisfyingly deep and sending shockwaves through her primed and panting body.

"You feel so good," she barely managed to whimper through his forceful thrusts.

"And you feel absolutely incredible", brushing her dark, waist-length hair over her shoulder and continuing his assault on her tender neck.

She knew he'd leave marks, another reminder that she belonged to him alone. She would show them proudly, brushing them with her fingers fondly as she brushed her tangled hair later that day.

Ominis' rhythm ramped up, the empty hallways filling with the sounds of their slickened skin slapping, Maerys' arousal thoroughly coating their most intimate areas as Ominis became more and more dishevelled. Her soft and blood-swollen walls enveloped his cock so completely, every roll of his hips bringing them both closer to the edge.

"I do enjoy it when you wear this," Ominis whispered in her ear, his hands wandering over her waist. "I can feel every…curve…of your delicious little body."

Maerys gasped and pushed backwards against his cock as Ominis resumed his teasing of her nipples, practically drooling against her neck. She could feel her orgasm brewing, her breath growing ragged and muscles twitching in anticipation. Ominis couldn't fail to notice the same.

"Come on, my love. Show me how good I feel."

"Ominis…," Maerys sighed his name and fingers clawed uselessly at the wallpaper as she reached her climax.

Her core clenched before her orgasm exploded, sending waves through her body and gripping Ominis' cock. Soft moans brushed her ear as Ominis reached his own blissful release, filling her with his cum with every squeeze around his shaft. Maerys was against the wall, Ominis' weight pressing her hard as he grinded his hips into her, milking every last drop of his seed inside her.

When Ominis' was empty and Maerys a limp and bedraggled mess, he pulled her back and held her tightly, planting kisses on every exposed inch of skin he could find. 

"I love you," he sighed.

"I love you, too," Maerys sighed, reaching back to gently stroke his jaw.

"Now, I really must change and get to work, lest I find myself out of a job for my tardiness."

-

Ominis had left in a hurry, planting a swift kiss on her lips on his way out of the door, leaving Maerys alone to ready herself for the day. The first order of business was to wash the sex from her skin, letting the water and gentle soaps lift the residue from her thighs. She squirmed slightly as her fingers brushed over her intimate area, slightly sore and puffy. She dressed smartly, taking care with her appearance more than she might usually.

Meeting Ominis’ family should have been a joyous affair, but the Gaunts had made such a thing a fairytale. Maerys would instead be confronting them at a great disadvantage—not only did they have no idea she even existed, she’d be asking them to accept her and break off Ominis’ engagement. 

There was no use dwelling on the what-ifs of the encounter; as Maerys left the house to apparate to her destination, she ran over the words she wanted to say. A crack of apparition later, and she landed in a green expanse far away from the city she’d just left.

The Gaunt manor was as imposing as she'd imagined—though the house was large and likely once an ostentatious show of pureblood wealth, it was now run down and a shadow of its former glory. As with any magical dwelling, particularly for a powerful family, the building and grounds were enveloped by wards—this wouldn't simply be a case of walking up to the front door and knocking. Only those who were invited would be allowed to enter the wards, and knowing the Gaunts, Maerys wouldn't have been surprised if an intruder found themselves in searing pain. The place practically rippled with dark magic.

Maerys likely could have taken them down, one by one. She was a powerful witch with a background in law enforcement; this was part and parcel of her job. However, she preferred to remain on good (or at least civil) terms with Ominis' father by the time she left. Tentatively taking out her wand, she pointed it at the boundary and shot red sparks at the wards. They fizzled and disappeared as they hit the shimmering dome, and Maerys waited.

She'd expected a servant of some sort, perhaps a house elf to greet her, instead a tall, dark figure appeared in the doorway. Perhaps it was a trick of perspective and the door was smaller than it appeared, but the man seemed to tower over everything he walked past. His dark hair was tucked behind his ears and as he approached, Maerys noted the hostile glare on his otherwise handsome face.

"Who are you?" the man snarled.

"A friend of Ominis'. I need to talk to Mr Gaunt," Maerys replied, summoning all of her confidence and willing her voice to be steady.

The man sneered, his dark eyes piercing through Maerys like daggers.

"We don't like friends of Ominis here. Blood traitor."

"Who…?"

"Marvolo. Marvolo Gaunt. And you're trespassing."

Maerys stared up at Ominis' brother in disbelief. He was the polar opposite of Ominis, and Maerys wondered if this was a quirk of their notorious inbreeding or his mother had simply been unfaithful when producing one of the brothers. His skin was tanned, eyes and hair darker, much taller and muscular than his elegant and fair brother. He had none of Ominis' refined air, nor his politeness, apparently.

"Please, I only need a few minutes and then I'll leave. I think Mr Gaunt would appreciate what I have to say."

Marvolo regarded her with dead eyes, devoid of warmth, before drawing his wand and waving an arch over the wards to create a path to admit her. Maerys stepped through the opening as Marvolo strode off without another word. She assumed she was meant to follow him, but his strides were so long she found herself practically running to keep up. His cruel smirk as he looked back at her indicated this had likely been his intention; the humiliation already beginning.

Maerys' heart thumped in her chest as she skipped across the threshold into the manor, eyes darting around at the dilapidated hallway and once-grand staircase now reduced to scuffed wood and tattered carpet. She'd always assumed Ominis exaggerated about his family, down to the financial situation that was a great source of shame for him. To Maerys' dismay, it appeared he'd been truthful, including Marvolo's cruel sneer and intimidating air. 

The house hummed with dark magic, and her gut twisted as she considered all that Ominis had told her. His family were dangerous , unhinged , utterly without conscience . If he had been telling her the truth, Maerys had made a huge lapse in judgement in coming to their manor alone.

Marvolo led her down a dim corridor to an inconspicuous door and leaned against the wall opposite, watching and waiting. Maerys' eyes darted from him to the door, thankful to finally be leaving his presence. She knocked on the wood and waited until a voice called from inside and the door flew open and she was pulled inside by a stream of magic. The slam from behind her and click of a lock indicated that she was now alone with a different man, standing in the middle of the room with his wand aloft.

"Who are you? State your business," he demanded.

Maerys barely had a chance to take in her surroundings before scrambling for words to answer him. This must have been Tiberius Gaunt, Ominis' father. Much older than she'd expected and more reminiscent of Ominis than his brother, his pale skin reflected in the dim light from the oil lamps dotted around the room. He had only a hint of Ominis' beauty; his eyes were cold, narrowed and full of suspicion.

"I'm sorry to intrude, Mr Gaunt. I'm a friend of Ominis' and wished to speak with you about something."

His glare softened at the mention of his son and he lowered his wand, retreating to an armchair amongst the towers of dusty books that lined the walls of the small library. Maerys followed, perching awkwardly on the chair opposite him as he watched with great interest.

"A friend, you say? What could a friend have to say to me, hm? A day after his betrothal, no less. Don't take me for a fool , girl."

Maerys swallowed thickly, a chill running down her spine at the accusation. He was right, of course—her attempt at subtlety was anything but. 

"You're correct. Myself and Ominis have been…romantically involved for some time."

"I see. And you wish to cast yourself into the ring, as it were? What of your heritage, girl?"

"My mother was a witch," Maerys replied, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

"Just your mother?" he pressed, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Maerys nodded—she had never been made to feel less than adequate because of her blood status, but the way Tiberius Gaunt looked at her that moment was enough to erase every last drop of her self-assuredness. She knew his thoughts on the matter, and yet she had presented herself before him with a demand; or perhaps it was a plea.

"I love Ominis very much, as he loves me. All I ask is that you give me a chance to prove myself worthy of your family name."

"My son is already a disappointment, I'll not have another besmirch my family's legacy. He will marry a pureblood befitting his own status."

His eyes flashed menacingly as he leaned forward and stood up off from the old armchair. 

"Leave, and I suggest you don't return. Break off your involvement with my son and I'll say no more. Refuse, and I'll do more than scold you," the old man snarled.

The conversation was at an end, and Maerys was more than eager to leave. As she left silently through the library door, she wondered if he might see reason given time to consider the matter. Surely , his son's happiness counted for something ?

The thought was interrupted by the tall, dark shadow that cast itself across her as she stepped into the hallway. Marvolo had clearly been listening to the exchange, perched still in the spot she had left him against the tatty wall.

"I can show myself out," Maerys said, a note of irritation in her voice.

"I don't think you'll be going anywhere just yet, sweet thing."

"What…?"

Maerys gasped, cutting her inquiry short as Marvolo's hand found itself to her neck, his long fingers encircling her throat and squeezing the breath right out of her windpipe. She struggled, clawing at the hand before using the last of her conscious thought to reach for her wand. 

"Incarcerous ."

The spell uttered wasn't her own. Her wrists were bound by ropes, summoned from her attacker's wand, twining and squeezing her skin until it burned. His malevolent stare was the last thing she saw before the scene faded to black, her last thought of her lover and soulmate, wondering if she would ever see him again.

-

Her wand was gone. The thin stick of laurel wood no longer pressed against her hip as she awoke on what appeared to be a cold stone floor. Maerys winced as she moved and found herself still bound, the summoned ropes cutting painfully into her wrists. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room and her head swam uncomfortably from the sudden lack of oxygen, she felt her eyes sting with tears. Thank Merlin, I'm still alive , she thought.

Looking around to get her bearings, she noted the vaulted ceiling and lack of windows, the only light from a conjured flame that sat in a jar too far away to be of any use. She had been bound to a pillar to suppress any notion of escape.

"You're awake, finally. I was beginning to grow bored."

Maerys jumped, pulling an amused cackle from Marvolo's throat as he stepped out of the shadows.

"What are you doing? You know I'm a law enforcement officer, I can have you arrested and sent to Azkaban for this," she spat with false confidence.

Marvolo's face darkened, the smirk falling from his lips as he strode closer to her. Her neck craned painfully to watch his looming figure approach, his wand gripped firmly by his side.

"Are you now? That really doesn't give me an incentive to let you go now, does it?"

Maerys shuddered as the blood rushed from her head and stomach lurched. She'd been trained for this, but at no point had there been an eventuality where she was completely and utterly alone . She should have a partner, or at least someone who knew where she was. She had neither. She needed her wand.

"Why are you doing this?" Maerys asked, almost a whisper, watching Marvolo carefully.

She needed to draw him closer, to see if he held her wand. How she would get it back, she had no idea. One step at a time .

Marvolo took the bait and inched closer, dropping to his knees to survey the defeated look on her face that he'd brought forth with great satisfaction. Her eyes flitted across his broad shoulders and down to his waist, seeing no hint of her wand on his person.

"You muddy our house and then presume to do the same to our family's bloodline," Marvolo growled. "I may despise my brother's weakness but I won't stand for him bringing a mudblood into the fold."

"Ominis is a grown man, he can decide himself who he marries."

Marvolo reached out a long arm and cupped Maerys' cheek as she remained frozen, eyes locked on his with fierce defiance.

"No, my little brother doesn't know what's good for him. No matter how delicious you are, your blood will always be tainted by Muggle filth."

His thumb ran over her bottom lip as he smirked down at her—he was clearly enjoying toying with her. Maerys’ breath quickened as he slipped his digit into her mouth and pressed onto her tongue, pulling a low growl from his throat as she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Her eyes remained impassive, but the tremble in her shoulders gave away her discomfort.

Marvolo’s smirk turned into a devilish grin as he returned to his feet, the colour draining from Maerys’ face as she noticed his obvious arousal whilst he adjusted his trousers. He was enjoying her humiliation, and she knew from Ominis’ description of the sadistic man standing before her that he wouldn’t be sated by simply holding her hostage.

"I think it's time we taught you a lesson in respect. Crucio ."

-

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Ominis had been doing little but waiting after returning home from work, wondering where Maerys had disappeared to. He initially thought she'd decided to head into Diagon Alley, perhaps meet some friends; but as the hours dragged on the dread settled over him as his mind raced through worst-case scenarios. 

Her absence was uncharacteristic. Maerys often made sure to be home when he was, as Ominis did the same—they had so little time together that they made the most of every minute their schedules aligned. The absence of a note was even more concerning, and Ominis had searched every inch of their spare living space for some indication of where she'd gone.

He stood in the living room, twirling his wand in his fingers, deep in thought. He was running out of ideas and he wasn’t one to simply wait, resting on his laurels with dread and uncertainty clouding his mind. He’d contacted her colleagues at the Ministry and any friends he could get hold of, even her numerous cousins had no idea where she was, and showed little concern when Ominis voiced his own.

The final, dreadful thought that crossed his mind was surely too far-fetched to consider. Ominis ran through the previous night, every detail he could remember and word exchanged and landed on the conclusion that where Maerys had found herself was the last place on Earth Ominis would want her.

He could be wrong, and he sincerely hoped he was—though the impromptu visit would raise more questions than he had answers for, he would make some excuse or other; inquiries into his betrothed, perhaps. Ominis holstered his wand, running a hand through his hair with a sigh before striding to the fireplace and finding the pot of floo powder on the mantle. He stepped onto the hearth and threw in the powder, speaking his destination as the green flames enveloped his person, sucking him into the network with an uncomfortable squeezing pull.

He landed with a jolt into silence, not even the soft crackle of a candle filled the room once the floo flames had died away. Ominis pushed his shirt sleeves up and fingered his wand handle and unsheathed it as he made his way through the living room. He knew the manor and its layout, but his wand afforded him an edge in times such as these, as well as being ready for any confrontation should it arise. 

“Homenum Revelio ,” he whispered, his wand vibrating at the presence of someone else in the house and the tip drifting downward.

Ominis was on the ground floor, and there was only one thing that lay below him—the cellar. His heart beat rapidly and pace quickened as he made his way through the hallways to the tiny door that led down into the dank underground cavern. To call it a room would be a stretch—once it had been used to store food and wine, when the family had such things in abundance. Now it was used only as a place for Marvolo to indulge his particularly disgraceful proclivities.

There was no way to be subtle about his entrance; the creaky stairs would reveal his presence immediately. The only thing Ominis had was the element of surprise. He pushed the door open and aimed his wand into the room, casting a preemptive shield charm in anticipation of an attack, but was instead greeted with the heart-wrenching sound of muffled sobs.

Ominis ran quicker than he’d ever done before, bounding down the stairs with little regard for who else might hear him, his wand and the gentle gasps guiding his way to a crumpled body on the floor. He dropped to his knees and his free hand drifted shakily over the figure in front of him; a cotton shirt, soft hair, chilled skin and a sliver of fabric, cutting into plush lips.

Ominis threw down his wand and got to work relieving Maerys of her gag, her coughs and unstifled cries filling the cold, damp cellar. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of her being thrown down here for hours whilst he had pointlessly made inquiries into her whereabouts. The tremor in his hand wasn’t from trepidation, it was from pure, unadulterated hate .

“Ominis, my hands,” she gasped.

He found the ropes, grimacing at the slick skin underneath them, the bindings cutting deep enough to draw blood. Once she was freed, she threw herself into Ominis’ arms, clinging to him for dear life as his rage built to almost unmanageable levels.

“What happened, my love? Was this Marvolo’s doing?”

There would be time to ask the question of how she found herself to be in this hellhole, but for now, he needed to know what had occurred. The amount of wrath he brought down on his dear brother would depend on her answer. Maerys continued to grip him tightly, still crouched on the floor as his hands gently stroked her hair and she steadied her breath enough to reply.

“Yes. I shouldn’t have come, I thought…”

“Please, tell me what he did,” Ominis interrupted, picking his wand from the floor and holstering it once again.

She inhaled sharply before answering as Ominis’ stomach clenched painfully.

“He used an unforgivable curse on me. I…he might have used another, I’m not sure. I don’t remember…”

The fact that Maerys was still alive meant that Marvolo had tortured her, her shaking hands testament to the fact—one of the curse’s aftereffects. Ominis’ head swam as he absorbed the last of her answer, imagining all the possibilities of what his brother could have done with her under the influence of the Imperius curse.

Ominis’ ears could scarcely register her continued talking as a blind rage overcame him, the only thought in his mind now one of seeking revenge. He would pay for what he had done if it was the last thing Ominis did, and he fully expected it would be. Ominis’ death would be a small price to pay if he could take Marvolo down with him.

“Ominis?”

Her voice brought him back to the present, and he stood up to help her shakily to her feet. Ominis needed to get Maerys to safety before he could finish his business here.

“Come, there’s a tunnel here that leads to just outside the wards. Can you stand to apparate with me?”

“Yes, I’ll be okay,” she said weakly.

The walk was as quick as they could make it, through the cramped underground path that led to nowhere. It had been used for many things in the past; smuggling, an escape route, a place to hide dark artifacts that his family didn't want to contaminate the manor house. The tunnel had been blocked years ago and never reopened, but Ominis had used it as a hiding place for years whilst he lived here. Marvolo had no idea it existed, and it had become Ominis’ sanctuary from his brother’s provocations.

“Hold on tight, I’ll get you home,” Ominis said gently.

Maerys gripped his bicep and he turned, disapparating and reappearing in the alleyway behind their house. Maerys stumbled and groaned and Ominis held her steady, leading her inside and straight to the sofa where she collapsed.

“I need to take care of this,” Ominis said.

“Please, Ominis, don’t.”

“Darling, if he knows about you he will not let your escape go unpunished.”

Before she could object any further, Ominis had planted a kiss on her forehead and strode out of the door to return to his family home, to exact his revenge.

-

Ominis crept through the quiet house, constantly on guard. Though his instinct was to shield himself, he knew that it would do little to protect him if he met Marvolo. He cast the charm to reveal human presence once again, ignoring the fainter magical signature in the south wing which was likely his father cooped up in the library. The other was outdoors in the grounds.

Following his wand’s lead, Ominis headed into the cool night air, following the brickwork of the manor house towards the gardens. He had no idea what they now consisted of, only that the once lovingly-planted rows of English roses that lined the gravel path were now overgrown, the thorns prone to catching on clothing. The crunching underfoot wasn’t conducive to a stealthy approach, but Ominis was hoping that Marvolo was too busy indulging in his drug of choice to notice his approach.

The fact that he’d simply left after performing such atrocities on his Maerys only incensed Ominis further; his nails dug painfully into his palms and jaw clenched in intense and righteous anger. He’d often heard people describe this unbridled fury as ‘seeing red’—Ominis found that this state felt like an out of body experience, his actions seemingly made by someone other than himself. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he’d wanted to, and he had absolutely no desire to do so. 

Ominis was correct in his assumption and found Marvolo slumped on a bench, half-sedated and doused in the sickly-sweet scent of opium.

“Ah, there he is. Come to reclaim your whore?” Marvolo slurred, making no attempt at moving.

For reasons he couldn’t quite fathom, Ominis smiled in response, knowing precisely what his next move would be. Perhaps his brother’s words had given Ominis the justification for the flick of his wrist that caused a strangled moan from the bench. There was now no stopping him, fuelled by pure hatred, the spells Ominis fired off were unrelenting.

Marvolo scrambled to avoid the attacks and Ominis was sure he was bleeding heavily judging by the limping and groaning.

“Crucio!”

Ominis spun to the right, avoiding the curse and righting himself, firing off a counterattack.

“Confringo!”

The fire that erupted from his wand warmed his skin, blazing through the air and colliding with something definitely not its intended target. Ominis thought that the garden could have been set ablaze, but the thought didn’t bother him as he continued his evasive footwork.

“Cru-”

“Diffindo!”

Ominis’ severing charm hit its target and cut off Marvolo’s curse before he could finish the incantation. The air was quiet, far too quiet, until Ominis heard a strangled cry and horrific bubbling sound. Something wet hit his face and he flinched, the crunching of gravel marking the moment his brother fell to the floor and gasped his last breath.

Ominis inhaled sharply, the beads of liquid rolling down his face and dripping into his parted lips, revealing the unmistakable metallic tang of blood . The pure Gaunt blood. He wondered if any of that mattered—they all bled the same. His brother’s supposedly superior blood still ran down his face and pooled at his feet, his lifeless body lay crumpled on the ground amongst the scented roses. He could have been a Muggle—in death, the power and influence that came with the Gaunt name meant nothing.

He should have been horrified, instead Ominis only felt relief, and a disturbing amount of satisfaction as the raw power coursed through his veins. The immediate threat had passed, but as his mind cleared, his thoughts turned to the other Gaunt still present on the estate. What would he do when he learned of Marvolo’s death? Ominis knew that the only way to keep Maerys safe was to ensure that his father knew exactly what he had done.

First, he had to dispose of the body. The body . Such a detached way to describe one's flesh and blood. Yet, Ominis found it hard to mourn the loss as he cleared the earth next to the manor wall with a flick of his wand. Only when he touched the still-warm arm of his brother did his gut twist and nausea threatened to overwhelm him until he forced himself to breath deep, shaky breaths.

By the time Marvolo was buried, Ominis was caked in dirt and blood, sweating and trembling as he gripped his wand to cast a fire spell, scorching the wall where his brother's makeshift grave lay. He walked in a silent haze to the house, seeking out the man who had just lost the very last of his legacy in a matter of minutes.

Of course Ominis found his father cooped up in his library, none the wiser as to what had occurred. The shocked silence that met Ominis' arrival told him how he must have appeared—the man rarely had nothing to say. 

"What…have you done?" Tiberius finally uttered after several moments.

"Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"Maerys. Did you know what Marvolo did, here, in this house?" Ominis asked, his voice quiet and deadly.

"What are you talking about, boy? What have you done? " 

Ominis knew then that his father had no inkling of what had happened right under his nose. Too distracted by his own agenda, he'd failed to control his son's impulses as he'd done time and time again. Marvolo's reckless disregard for subtlety and secrecy was always going to be his downfall; only the component of being by Ominis' hand was unexpected.

"Marvolo took her, tortured her, right below your feet," Ominis said coldly, pointing his finger to the floor. "So I buried him. Six feet deep."

"You…you killed your own brother?"

The first time he'd heard fear in his father's voice sent a chill down Ominis' spine, the cloud of rage lifting slightly. What had he done?

"A reminder, father…to not interfere," Ominis whispered with the last of his ability to speak.

He left before his composure broke down, his hands shaking violently as the door slammed behind him and he stumbled back to the fireplace to carry him home. He still tasted the blood on his lips, the sweet smell of the opium lingering in his nostrils. His head pounded and pulse raced, barely noticing that he'd been pulled into the floo flames until he landed in his house to the sound of Maerys' frantic voice.

Ominis fell to the floor, expelling the last of what was left in his stomach onto the floorboards as his shaky arms struggled to keep him from collapsing into it.

"Ominis? Ominis, what happened? Please , answer me," Maerys sobbed, her hands on his back, his cheek, his hair.

He heard her gasp as she realised that the blood wasn't his own.

-

Maerys had never seen Ominis quite so terrified; his body trembled as he struggled to breathe, unable to tell her what had happened. She had a good idea, especially when she realised that the blood that splattered his face and drenched his shirt wasn't his. It had started to dry, clumping in his hair which fell dishevelled in front of his glazed eyes. Oh Gods, what had he done?

Maerys held him for what seems like hours until he finally formed a sentence, and whilst she'd expected it, the words seemed completely alien coming from Ominis.

"I killed him. My brother is dead and…buried."

"Come with me, let's have a shower and get the…dirt off of you," Maerys said gently.

The water ran brown and red for minutes, Ominis turning the temperature high to almost scalding levels as they huddled under the stream. Ominis was slowly coming out of the shock, the shaking leaving his extremities, whether because of the comforting shower or Maerys' tight embrace she didn't know or care. Once they were scrubbed clean, she led him to their bed and guided him to sit. He put up no fight, nor seemed to register what was happening.

"Ominis, I'm so sorry…I shouldn't have…"

"Don't apologise. I can't bear to think of what he did to you," Ominis whispered.

Maerys sat beside him, watching his pensive expression as droplets of water from his hair ran down his cheeks and dripped onto his bare shoulders. His ivory skin prickled with goosebumps from the chill but he made no attempt to move.

"Your father will never bother us again," Maerys said, fingers pushing the wayward blond strands from his turbulent eyes.

"Because of what I've done. I am the monster I've always been accused of being," he said with a mirthless laugh.

"No, because you've shown him you'll do anything to protect me. I love you so much, Ominis."

"How can you possibly love me after seeing what I'm capable of?"

"How can I not love you? You saved me, Ominis."

Maerys sat behind him, straddling her legs either side of his waist and wrapping her arms around his chest. She kissed the trail of beauty marks on his shoulder that led to his cheek, each press of her lips in rhythm with his heavy breath. His heart beat rapidly against her hands, his skin warming under her touch—both were a reminder that they were alive ; something that Maerys could no longer take for granted.

"I love you, Ominis Gaunt," she whispered into his ear.

"I love you, though I don't deserve yours," Ominis sighed.

Her fingers traced the contours of his chest, following the trail of soft blond hair down to his taut stomach as her lips continued to roam his neck. 

"I decide who deserves my love, and I choose you," Maerys whispered against his skin.

Ominis turned and tilted his head towards her, silently asking for more. Maerys obliged by sliding around the bed sheets to face him, lowering herself into his lap and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. She couldn't have him regret what had happened or doubt her feelings for him—Ominis was her saviour, and she loved him more than she ever thought possible. She told him so with how she clung to his naked form, pressing herself so tightly into him that they might have been one body.

Ominis responded slowly, unsure of whether he deserved such devotion. Their mouths brushed with heavy breaths and Maerys ran her tongue tentatively along his lip. She was met with Ominis' own, their heads instinctively tilting to deepen the kiss as their tongues brushed and lips captured the others'. All residue had been washed from their skins, leaving only Ominis' comforting scent and the lavender soap they'd used—he smelled as he always did, like home .

"Tell me you love me again," Ominis asked gently, placing tender kisses along Maerys' cheek.

"I love you, Ominis. I always will."

Ominis hummed approvingly as his mouth moved to her neck and hands spurred into action, delicate fingers sliding over her bare thighs to gently wrap around her waist. Maerys continued to mutter sweet nothings as he kissed her, his warm skin under her ear sending tingles down her spine and peaking her nipples as they brushed against his chest. 

She ached for him—every stroke of his hand and flick of his tongue quickening her pulse and drew soft moans from her mouth. Ominis responded with sounds of adoration, muttering her name as his arousal became apparent underneath her. His growing erection pressed against her soaking wet heat as her hips rocked teasingly to meet him. Ominis' length pressed into Maerys' slick folds and brushed her sensitive nub, and she moaned and gripped his hair as the friction teased the growing tension in her core.

"Oh, fuck ," she gasped, sliding along his length with increasing fervour.

Ominis held her tightly, pulling her down each time she reached his tip, squeezing precum from his swollen head as his lap became increasingly messy, coated in their arousal. Their lips met again, gasps exchanged into each other's mouths as they teased each other senseless, waiting for one of them to give in. It was Maerys who caved first, too eager to show Ominis the full extent of her love and gratitude.

She slid off of his lap with a regretful sigh, her clit swollen and still throbbing for stimulation, but she would gladly forgo her own pleasure to focus on Ominis first. His own groan turned into a whisper of her name and he fell back on the bed as Maerys took his slippery length in her hand. She shuffled down the bed, lining herself up with his tantalisingly swollen head, running her tongue over the weeping tip and moaning as his salty precum covered her tongue.

He tasted delicious , and each swipe of her tongue she tasted herself, only further spurring her on and dizzying her head with arousal. Maerys adored watching Ominis as she bobbed up and down on his cock; the way his mouth gaped as sinful moans filled the air and his pale cheeks flushed a deep pink as she built his orgasm. Her lips wrapped around his girth, taking him further into her mouth with each movement of her head until she found a comfortable rhythm.

Their combined moans and the wet slurping of her mouth filled the room as she worked him into state, Ominis practically writhing underneath her as his cock hit the back of her throat and she concentrated to control her gag reflex. Maerys could have made him finish then, but the moment demanded a greater intimacy, which Ominis seemed to agree with as his hands gently tugged at her hair or lift her off.

"Stop, please. You feel too good," he sighed.

Maerys gave the base of his shaft a final squeeze, her mouth retreating with every drop of his precum she could gather on her tongue. Ominis shuddered, wrapping his own hand over hers, holding her firm grip still as he controlled the urge to finish.

"I want to fill you, but…but not yet."

Maerys' eyes lingered on his cock, his hand finally leaving hers and setting her free to clamber back onto his thighs, Ominis' arms greeting her with a tight embrace as they exchanged a deep, slow kiss. As she pulled back to look at him, her heart skipped a beat when she met his pale blue irises. 

Merlin, he was beautiful . She wasn't used to seeing him so vulnerable, so submissive to her. It meant the world to Maerys that Ominis trusted her to hand over control in that moment and let her show him how much he meant to her.

"I'm going to go slowly," she whispered.

Her hand reached down between them, lining his tip up with her soaking entrance and pressing her weight into his lap. She gasped as he stretched her, her walls twitching in anticipation of the fullness his girth would provide. Ominis held her tightly, his face buried in her damp hair that muffled his moans. She stilled once his length was inside her, enjoying the sensation of his stiff erection filling her so satisfyingly as she nibbled on his lower lip.

Ominis' hands roamed her back, skimming her waist and gripping her soft behind, his fingers kneading her flesh as his cock twitched needily inside her. 

"You're so warm . You really do feel incredible, my love," Ominis whispered.

Maerys whimpered as his sultry voice filled her ears, the ache between her legs now painful as she longed to feel more of him. With another gentle bite of his lip, she shifted herself slowly forward and back again, giving a small shift of her hips at the bottom of the movement which had Ominis' fingers pressing bruisingly into her cheeks and a growl brewing in his throat.

She did the same again, and again, keeping her eyes on him for every reaction and just to drink in his pleasure. His face was relaxed, flushed and expression utterly blissful as she rode him slowly, humming softly with every breath she took. She brushed her thumb over his moist lips, and he placed a gentle kiss on the digit with a tiny smile which made her heart leap and abdomen flutter. She'd made him smile, even now.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, Ominis," Maerys said, gazing down at him in complete adoration.

Ominis rolled his hips gently to meet her, a high-pitched mewl escaping her mouth as his cock hit deep inside her. 

"All that matters is you think so…as I believe you're…perfect, in every way," Ominis replied, moans punctuating his loving words.

The pace Maerys had set had quickened with every thrust Ominis met her with, their kisses and touches growing more needy by the second. Her fingers laced through his hair and one hand braced herself against the bed as she continued to grind on his cock, eyes rolling back into her head as he hit her just right at the bottom.

Maerys knew they wouldn't last much longer, her own orgasm building so quickly with the vigorous thrusts she thought the blood rushing from her head might cause her to faint. She was utterly exhausted, but she couldn't stop now, not when it felt so damn good . 

"I'm so close," she sighed, gripping the bed sheet above his head for purchase.

"So am I… f-fuck . Come for me, darling."

"Oh, Ominis…"

Maerys moaned her love's name as she met her sweet release, the waves of pleasure burning her skin as all she heard was the blood pounding in her ears and muffled groans underneath her. She clenched around Ominis' cock, pushing him over the edge with her as he gripped her tightly, hips rolling upwards into her and letting his cum coat her walls with every pulse. They sighed together, exchanging breathy kisses as they rode out their orgasms until Maerys collapsed on top of Ominis, every last drop of energy expended.

They stayed together until their lips were sore and neither could keep their eyes open, muttering their admissions of love and promises as the sun rose and they fell into a deep sleep. Maerys knew that Ominis would do anything to protect her, as she'd known from the moment he had first told her he loved her. Now she knew that particular truth would haunt him, and that she would spend every day keeping him safe from his demons, and she would do it gladly.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sliding Into Home ~ The One with the World Series

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Trial by Fire

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

Two weeks later... 

“I want to know.”  

“So do I.” 

“So why can’t we?” 

“Because It’s too early for it to show up.”  

“That seems stupid. Why are we here? You’re perfect.”  

“I’m a mess.”  

A chuckle. “But you’re my mess.” 

“Thanks, I think.”  

Frank kissed the top of Abby’s head. “You’re beautiful Cricket.”  

“I don’t feel like it.”  

“You’re twelve weeks pregnant, Cricket.” Frank took her hand. “You’ve been nauseous every day for the last two weeks. Plus, the stress from the hearing wasn’t helping.”  

“And you’re leaving,” she mumbled.  

“Sweetheart, you know I don’t want to leave you. I have to go to work.”  

“Stupid playoffs.”  

Frank chuckled. Abby had always hated when the playoffs started because he would have to be on the road for five days at any time during the current series. They were starting in LA, the Dodgers having the best record in the West, facing off against Arizona. “Cricket, it’s gonna be fine. Marco and Scott will be home to help. Please, just take it easy, ok?” 

Abby sighed. She knew this but it didn’t stop her anxiety. She thought back on the last couple of weeks.  

Mike had been officially charged with kidnapping and endangerment since there were drugs found in his house.  He was fighting it, of course, but now Frank and Abby had a protection order against him.  He went back to Boston in custody, his bail revoked.  

Diane pled no contest to her charges of assault and battery. The deal she made was to allow her to stay in treatment in Boston as long as she had no contact with Abby or Mike. She asked for a letter to be delivered before she accepted.  Abby read the letter, Diane’s apologies all over it. Abby closed that chapter in her heart, grateful her friend had found peace and recovery.  

Bobby Fuller was suspended pending a full investigation for his involvement with Frank’s incident in Vegas as well as helping Mike with the kidnapping.  He made a statement, saying he was not going to fight any charges or decisions made by the league.  He had earned what would happen to him after everything had concluded and offered his apologies to the Adler family. 

Now, she was dealing with the playoffs and the push for Los Angeles to make it to the World Series once again. She came out of her thoughts as her doctor entered the room. “Hello Dr. Adler.”  

“Hey Dr. Montgomery.”  

“Mr. Adler,” she shook Frank’s hand. “Ready to start the playoffs? 

“Absolutely Doc.” Frank flashed her a smile. “Game one tomorrow.”  

“You better bring that trophy home,” she replied.  “Now Abby, how are you feeling?” 

“Nauseous and thirsty at the same time.  Kinda weird.”  

“Yeah, that happens. Any drowsiness, bloating, cravings?” 

“A little bit of everything.” Abby smiled. “Just generally tired. Had back to back surgeries yesterday and then Mary decided it was time to learn a new hobby.” She gave Frank a pointed look. 

“How did I know she wanted to learn the drums? She said she wanted to play an instrument.” Frank shrugged and gave his best boyish grin.  

Dr. Montgomery chuckled. “Yeah, I can understand that. Well, your blood work came back great, your weight is on track for twelve weeks.”  

“When will I pop?” Abby placed a hand over her belly. “Right now, I just feel big but Frank says I look the same.” 

“No, I said you look beautiful,” Frank argued.  

“Whatever.”  

“Usually, moms pop their bellies closer to 15 or 16 weeks. Like I mentioned, your weight is great for twelve weeks. Now, are we ready to see baby?” Abby nodded.  “Ok, scoot down, shirt under your breast and pants down a little.  Sorry, this is a little cold.”  She squirted gel onto Abby, grabbed the wand and rolled over her skin.  Frank and Abby stared at the screen, just a mix of black, white and gray, until... 

“There it is.” A little peanut shaped blob appeared. It was different from the first scan where it was just a blip of something.  This time, a head was clearly taking shape. “That’s your baby.”  

“It’s like a little peanut alien,” Frank said. 

“Frankie,” Abby whined.  

“What? Cricket, it’s a peanut. It's our...” he stopped as Dr. Montgomery turned on the sound and a rapid noise echoed in the room. “Is that...” 

“Baby’s heartbeat. Its nice and strong, about 150 beats per minute, which is perfect.”  

“They are perfect,” Abby breathed. A tear ran down her face.  

“Cricket, what’s wrong?” 

“I just thought with the stress, that I did something to the baby.” 

Dr. Montgomery cleaned Abby up. “Abby, you are doing everything right. I know that the hearing was stressful, but everything is perfect. I don’t think you need an amniocentesis, so I would relax and enjoy.”  

Abby nodded as Frank said, “thanks Doc.”  

“Pictures will be up front, and I want to see you in four weeks. Good luck, Frank.”  

As Abby and Frank made their way up, they started to talk about baby names. “I like Emily for a girl or Steven for a boy,” Abby said.  

“I’m ok with Emily but Steven? Steve Adler?” Frank twisted his mouth in disgust. 

“It sounds good.”  

“No Cricket it doesn’t. How about Daniel?” 

“Dan Adler? I mean, its ok.”  

Frank sighed.  “We have time right?” 

“Yes, we do.” Abby leaned into him. “When are we going to announce this?” 

“Let’s do it after the playoffs. You won’t be showing for a few more weeks, and we have the box, so you’ll be hidden.”  

“Ok, now if we can only guarantee that Mary will keep her mouth shut,” Abby muses.  

“That’s like asking Johnny not to call himself the ‘Human Torch’. Just impossible,” Frank smiled and kissed her head. “But keep dreaming.”  

The Dodgers make it through the Wild Card and Division series, defeating The San Diego Padres and the Chicago Cub, respectively. Johnny had pitched a no hitter in the first game against the New York Mets, but a rouge bounce made Frank miss a ground ball in game two, letting the Mets win that game. Fortunately, the Dodgers held themselves together for games three and four and were sitting on the verge of their 13th World Series appearance.  

Frank was pumped. He was already a two time World Series winner with Boston and he wanted to make his new team proud. They were away in New York, but it was Saturday, so his family and Abby’s parents were able to make the game.  

Abby: No matter what, Mary, peanut and I love you so much Frankie. Good luck baby! 

Frank smiled as he finished dressing.  Johnny was also looking at his phone, smiling like a goofball.  “What has gotten into you? Or should I say who?” 

Johnny dropped his phone.  He scrambled to pick it up. “Nothing, no one, what, wait, huh?” 

Frank grabbed his chest and laughed so hard it brought attention from the entire team.  “What is so funny Adler?” Mookie Betts asked.  

“Johnny Storm, our own Human Torch, has a girl!” Frank said through gasps of air.  “Pay up losers!” 

Over half the team grumbled as they pulled out their wallets with Frank and a couple of others holding out their hands. “What the actual fuck is going on?” Johnny asked.  

“I told the guys you were going to be infatuated with a girl.  Thanks for this,” Frank holds up his hand holding up a few bills.  

“You bet on me meeting a girl?” 

“No, that’s a stupid bet. I bet you would fall for a girl. Told them I introduced you to one and said I think this is the one for him and Betts said there wasn’t a chance in hell and others agreed so we made a small yet rather fruitful wager.”  

“You couldn’t have waited until the end of the season, could your Torch?” Betts slapped his back.  

Johnny tried to be angry but instead smiled. “Hell no. Have you see her?” He showed off a picture of him and Katie together by the beach.  “She is smart, gorgeous...” 

“And should have no business with you,” Kershaw said. “She is smoking.”  

“She likes baseball, hangs out with Mary and likes it and she...” he stopped himself. “Never mind. All I’m saying is that I hit the jackpot with my girl so you all can fuck off now.”  He turned back to his locker to finish getting ready.  

“$100 says he’s engaged if we win the World Series,” Kershaw says.  

“No bet. I think he’ll do it at Christmas.  More romantic,” Frank says. Johnny just flips them the bird and the team laughs.  

The game is tense, but Johnny manages to throw only one hit the entire game.  Mookie hits a grand slam and seals the Dodgers fate to another World Series. After the celebration in the locker room, Frank showers and heads out. He sees his wife, daughter and best friend in the family room, Mary asleep in her grandfather’s arms, Abby leaning against Scott and Susie in Marco’s lap. Johnny walked in right after and saw his sister. Before Johnny could say anything, Frank covered his mouth. “Shut up,” he whispered.  

“That’s my sister,” Johnny pointed.  

“Have you not noticed she been dating my brother in law?” Frank hissed. “Since the All Star game.” 

“Seriously? I thought she was with that nerd Reed.” 

Frank sighed and ran a hand over his face. “According to Abby, Reed said he didn’t have time to date because of some crap project about a cloud in space, who the fuck knows. Anyway, when everyone was trying to find Mary, I guess Susie broke down in the backyard and Marco comforted her. One thing led to another, and they started seeing each other in LA.”  

Johnny looked at his sister.  “Why didn’t she tell me?” 

“Geez, I wonder,” Frank deadpanned.  

“Yeah, alright, you don’t have to be a dick about it. Let’s take them to the hotel and get some sleep before we fly home.” He took another look at his sister. “She’s happy, and he’s a good guy?” 

“I couldn’t trust anyone better to protect this family.”  

The Dodger has two days off before they have to start their series with Boston. The irony was not lost on Frank. Playing the team that had traded him after missing the playoffs last year would either be glorious or gut-wrenching. They are starting on the road this time and Frank is nervous.  Not for the game, but for the fact that Abby had now been dealing with a streak of morning sickness that left her pale, dehydrated and bedridden.  

“Cricket, maybe I can miss the first game? Just until I know you are better.” He smoothed her hair away from her clammy forehead.  

“Frankie, you can’t miss. Susie said she would stay with me and Nugget and Marco. Scottie and Steve are going to go and support. If I feel better, I’ll fly out with Mary for game two.”  

“But...” 

“No, Frank, this is your job.  Win this, babe, and come home and finish it for me here in LA. I promise, if something is wrong, we will call. Your baby just likes to test me is all.”  

Frank ran a hand through his hair.  “The minute something is wrong?” 

“You’ll be the first call, ok? I love you.”  

He knelt next to the side of the bed. “I love you Peanut. Be nice to momma, ok?” He kissed her stomach and then kissed her forehead. “I love you, Cricket. So very much.”  One last kiss, he grabbed his suitcase and was out the door.  

Mary, Susie and Abby watched their boys play in Boston. They took game one with ease, Frank making a spectacular dive in the fourth for a double play.  Johnny hit two homers in the ninth securing the win.  Game two was a different story.  Boston came to play, outscoring Los Angeles by ten.  Abby flipped off the TV at the end of the game, tugging on Mary’s ponytail. “At least Frank hit it.”  

“But they lost.”  

“I know, but you have to look at the positives, Nugget. I’m sure Dad would appreciate it if we kept to the positives.  It’ll make flying home easier.”  

“I guess.” Mary shrugged. “I don’t remember Boston being that good.”  

“Me neither.”  

Frank and the rest of the team came home in a dejected state. Losing that hard took its toll but it just made the Dodgers want to work that much harder.  He hadn’t mentioned it to Abby, but a couple of the Boston guys jeered at him when his was on base.  Fans did too, during game two. It had messed with his head a little bit. Johnny had heard it and reminded Frank that he hadn’t chosen to leave Boston. It still stung.  

The next three games were at home and the Dodgers took the lead after five, with spectacular performances from Kershaw and Storm. Betts hit homers in every game and Frank had two RBIs. Abby had been feeling better to attend the games, making Frank feel better knowing his girl was at the stadium with him.  

Game six and the teams were back in Boston.  It had been a close game, but Frank fouled up in the ninth allowing the winning run on base. But former Dodger Justin Turner would not be denied. He had come over during Frank’s trade and had something to prove.  He launched a walk off rocket off a fast ball from Joe Kelly that went right over the famous Green Monster wall. Joe and the rest of the team walked off of the field with the crowd going absolutely wild in the background.  

As Frank woke up on the day of game seven, he stared at the ceiling. This was the last day to prove to everyone that, despite the year of chaos he had, he was still the best at this game. He turned and looked at his beautiful wife. Abby’s hair cascaded down her naked back, finding comfort of no clothes during her fourteenth week of pregnancy.  Frank moved a piece of hair that had fallen over her face back. Winning her back, completing his mission to marry the love of his life, he knew he had already won the year.  

Abby curled more into his side and Frank wrapped his arm firmly around her. He could snooze for a few more before the chaos of the day began.  

The game was tight and scoreless. Both teams were playing with no errors. It was the top of the ninth and Frank was on second, having a lucky bounce allowing him to get the double.  Johnny was now at bat and had a two count. Frank took a small lead of the base and could see a fastball would be delivered. Johnny read it perfectly and it bounced in left field. Frank ran for third and the third base coach waved him through to home. Frank slid and beat the throw home.  

Dodgers –1 – Boston – 0.  

The next batter strikes out, but the damage has been done.  It's up to the defense to hold off Boston for the next half of the inning.  Johnny came in as relief to Kershaw and has been on his game all night. He quickly dispatches a batter but walked the next and now it's do or die for Boston.  And Justin Turner is at bat.  

Johnny settles, a shake of his head, then a nod, and let go of his patented fast ball. Strike.  He gets the ball back and takes a breath.  He looks at Frank, who gives him a reassuring nod and he turns back.  Another nod and Johnny threw his change-up, leaving Turner swinging.  

One more.  

Johnny sets, rears back and lets go of the ball.  

It's perfect.  

Until the crack of the bat sounds.  

And Frank watches as it sails over the right field wall. 

Boston has won the World Series. 

I'm sorry, don't kill me...

NEXT

Taglist

@patzammit

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@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@before-we-get-started

@tinkerbelle67

@bunnyforhim

@peaceinourtime82

[beardedmrbean]

An Alaska woman who murdered her friend in the hope of a $9 million payoff has been jailed for 99 years.

Denali Dakota Skye Brehmer, one of two young people charged in the 2019 killing of Alaska teenager Cynthia Hoffman in a murder-for-hire scheme, was jailed on Monday after pleading guilty in February 2023 to first-degree murder.

Court documents showed that Brehmer was 18 when she and two other teens were catfished online by 21-year-old Darin Schilmiller, who pretended to be a millionaire named “Tyler” and offered the teens $9m for the “rape and murder of someone in Alaska”.

He also asked the teens to send him photos and videos of the killing, according to court documents.

Brehmer agreed to the offer, and enlisted the help of four friends, Caleb Leyland and Kayden McIntosh, along with two unnamed juveniles.

Authorities accused Brehmer and her alleged accomplices of luring Hoffman to Thunderbird Falls in Chugiak, an unincorporated community in Anchorage, under the guise of a friendly hike.

During the hike, Hoffman – who thought of Brehmer as her “best friend” – was duct-taped and shot in the back of the head and put into a river, officials said.

Authorities added that the group had tried to burn Hoffman’s body before sending her family a text that she had been dropped off elsewhere.

Police found Hoffman’s body one day after she was reported missing.

Kayden McIntosh, who was 16 at the time, was charged with murder for allegedly shooting Hoffman in the head. His case is pending trial.

Meanwhile, Brehmer was handed the maximum sentence for her role in the killing, according to the Alaska Department of Law.

“She may not have pulled the trigger, but this never would have happened it if it weren’t for Denali Brehmer,” said Patrick McKay, Anchorage assistant district attorney, during sentencing.

“She executed Cynthia Hoffman in a murder-for-hire plot. She conspired with numerous other individuals in and outside of Alaska, including juveniles, forever altering everybody’s life,” he added.

Anchorage Superior Court Judge Andrew Peterson called the killing “tragic and senseless”, adding that Brehmer showed no remorse. He said he hoped her sentence would serve as a deterrent to others.

Darin Schilmiller of New Salisbury, Indiana, was also sentenced last month to 99 years in prison for his role in Hoffman’s murder after being extradited to Alaska.

Caleb Leyland pleaded guilty to second-degree murder in November. He is scheduled for sentencing on 10 June.

The Independent is the world’s most free-thinking news brand, providing global news, commentary and analysis for the independently-minded. We have grown a huge, global readership of independently minded individuals, who value our trusted voice and commitment to positive change. Our mission, making change happen, has never been as important as it is today.

[dramioneasks]

Hi! looking for a fic similar to damaged goods

slow-ish burn (have secretly liked each-other forever)

8th year

spicy

witty but not toxic draco

HEA

no one loses their magic

Thank you!! :)

As the Stars Fall by charlottemuses - E, 22 chapters - Following the war Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley spoke in the defence of Draco Malfoy’s crimes, he was not sentenced to any period of time in Azkaban pending further conditions which would be considered, written up and agreed upon once trials were over. By the middle of June it was announced that Hogwarts had begun a rebuild, appointed new staff and the school will resume in September for all who wish to resume studies at the start of the academic year. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley started their Aurora training in the Ministry due to their vital part in the defeat of Tom Riddle. Hermione Granger decided to go back to Hogwarts and finish her final year of studies after spending the summer with Malfoy in Muggle London. What will happen with the house re-sorting?, what were the conditions of Malfoy’s pardon? and what will happen with Hermione’s love of Muggle music?

The Darkwood Wand by ThebeMoon - M, 69 chapters, Words: 201,107 - Draco Malfoy is harsh and cold and hated at Hogwarts. And Draco is fine with this. He’s even casting the Vanishing Cabinet spell again, although for a much less nefarious purpose. This time he’s using Harmonia Nectere Passus to link his bed with the bed of a willing witch. But something goes horribly wrong, and instead of the buzzy flirt Draco’s been secretly meeting, his bed keeps delivering an extremely unamused Hermione Granger.So begins Draco’s travesty of an Eighth Year on probation, where nothing ever goes to plan and good deeds NEVER pay. His Divination classes are a disaster, his mother owls him daily prophecies of doom, a rabid she-weasel stalks him through the castle, and his mad roommate from Durmstrang plots to avenge the Dark Lord.Each day sparks an internal battle between Draco’s calculating Malfoy nature and his reckless Black side. Every night brings Granger back again, wreaking havoc with his body and mind. Draco is convinced he’s headed straight back to Azkaban and he’s almost looking forward to the trip. COMPLETE!(FYI: This story is not part of “The Gloriana Set” universe. This is a whole new castle full of crazy.)

No More Distractions - AureliaMyer - T, 10 chapters - After spending most of her Hogwarts seventh year hunting horcruxes and fighting a war, Hermione returns to Hogwarts for an eighth year. Without constant life-or-death situations distracting her, Hermione is determined to truly invest herself in her education and preparations to improve the Wizarding World.Yet, she can’t help but feel there is something missing within her after the war.Maybe all it takes to find herself is a few monsters in the bathroom, some battles with more immortal Dark Lords, and a romance with the person she least expects.

Innocent Monsters - itscometothis - T, 12 chapters - Draco Malfoy thought he had reasonable expectations for his mandatory Eighth Year at Hogwarts, where he would be confined to the grounds as part of his probation. Isolation, hatred, and passing his NEWTs were really all he had in mind. What he wasn’t anticipating: 1) Having a small firstie latch onto him like a bloody koala 2) Said firstie adopting an erkling as if they didn’t feed on children. To protect his little nuisance, he’ll have to seek help from uncomfortable places, including the Swottiest Witch of Her Age. Joy of all joys.

Sorry, Not Sorry by NicheNugget - M, 17 chapters - It was never a question whether Hermione would go back to Hogwarts for her 8th year. What she didn’t see coming was a certain blonde who keeps getting thrown into her path. When Hogwarts offers nothing more disturbing than a heavy course load, secret parties, and dramatic friends, Draco and Hermione just might find a way to get along. Or maybe even more.

Twinned Quills - MeghanLeFay - M, 32 chapters, Words: 107,003  - The wrapping was a shimmering blue paper that reflected in the light. Hermione tore through the paper to reveal a sturdy black box. She carefully pried open the lid, and a gasp escaped her lips. With a shaking hand, she pulled out a long feather quill that had been dyed a very deep blue. … The quill scratched over the parchment as an invisible hand began to write. It wrote a single line, then stopped in place. ‘Took you long enough. Is this the first time you’ve tried to use  it?’ She recognized that tight, angular script. ‘Malfoy?’ … Hermione paused, and her eyes rested on Malfoy’s note from last night: ‘Why do you clutch at your arm every time you see me?’ Words jumbled around in her mind until slowly, deliberately, she wrote back: ‘My scars haven’t faded yet.’

Intergalactic by ForbiddenForrester - E, 21 chapters - Four months post-war and Hermione is back at Hogwarts. Having recently broken up with Ron she is determined to focus on her N.E.W.T.s and her Head Girl duties. However, an unfortunate run-in with a tall, blond Slytherin in the Forbidden Forest shakes her to her core and makes her question if Draco Malfoy really is the bad guy?

-Lisa

[inundatae]

a package for neuvillette just arrived! the wrapping is a pretty royal blue with intricate silver patterns all throughout. it's held together with a wide, translucent white ribbon tied into a neat bow at the top. the contents within contain an ornate stationery set consisting of a bundle of high quality, embossed note paper and a set of color coordinated wax sticks for sealing letters. beneath a weighted pen lies a stamped letter stating, in neat, wide spaced cursive...

iudex neuvillette, i regret that i will not be in fontaine by the time your birthday comes, so i hope that this gift finds you well. one can never have too much stationery, so i thought that this set from snezhnaya i came across a few months ago would make a lovely gift. please do tell me what you think of everything when we have tea again. may the skies stay clear, lord arlecchino.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞 anticipate when the seasons turn and autumn bows with all the grace and subtlety of a dancer upon the stage to the coming of winter. Already are the skies bright with the chill and promise of snowflakes still yet to descend. And yet for Neuvillette, snow is but a natural part of the world. Indicative only of the passage of time when for a nigh eternal being such as he, it is so easy to lose himself with the blurring of days. When the hours bleed together and he finds himself peering once more upon another sunrise, having yet to leave his office.

But it is not the snow that tolls the ending of the year, but another slow yet inexorable arrival that is as inevitable as the coming of the spring. The first of which awaits him, set with care upon his desk and so strikingly out of place amidst his papers and pens that he notes its presence immediately.

Ah, so it is to be that time then. The stray thought that always flits through his mind, the first confirmation and awareness aside from the casual minding of the dates that it is no longer fall. He cares so little for his own ‘birthday’ that he thinks to set it aside to be sorted through on another day. But as he turns the gift upon his desk, sliding the card attached to the parcel towards him for better perusal, he recognizes the elegant script addressed to his name at once.

So much to do, case files that still need to be read, a trial pending for the afternoon. And his day has yet to start. But with great care, Neuvillette begins to unwrap the present, gently lifting the edges of tape so as not to ruin the fine paper until at last he can work free the contents within. A quick read through of the missive offers clarity and in the comfort and privacy of his own office, he allows himself the smallest smile.

She is right of course. For all the many papers that line his desk, stacked within his drawers and atop the bookshelves, stationary given with sentiment will always hold far more value. It feels almost a crime to tear the first sheet free, but also fitting to pen his reply and thanks. The ink flows freely, his own precise script looking to her health and how Fontaine is considerably less with her away. Or rather, perhaps it is his own dubious attachment that’s blossomed since discovering something of a kindred spirit in the most unlikely of places.

He does not add that thought to the letter of course, but he is more than satisfied with what he has written. The stationary and the pens take a place of honor on the corner of his desk. As for the wrapping and the bow itself, well, he places it within the top most drawer, filled with oddities one would not expect of the Iudex. But he is allowed his own quirks, and none but he are aware of the existence of the drawer containing trinkets and small tokens gifted to him through the years, mechanical gears and sea shells from Merusea Village. He takes care that it is not crushed as it joins the honored number and with another small smile, slides the drawer shut.

[therobertfrasergang]

Robert Fraser in the Evening Standard, July 28, 1967

Robert Fraser had appealed his sentence for heroin possession but was denied. He ended up serving 4 months of a 6 month sentence (he'd already been in prison for 5 weeks at the time of this hearing).

The entire article is transcribed below the cut.

Evening Standard, Jul 28, 1967

‘Heroin is a killer’

Art Gallery Man Loses Appeal by Gordon Corner

The six-months prison sentence passed on Robert Hugh Fraser, 29-year-old art gallery director, on drug charges, is to stand.

This was decided in the Criminal Division of the Court of Appeals this afternoon after Lord Parker, the Lord Chief Justice, had termed heroin as a killer.

Fraser had pleaded guilty at West Sussex Quarter Sessions at Chichester to possession of 24 tablets of heroin and had been refused bail pending his trial.

The appeals of Rolling Stones, Mick Jagger and Keith Richard, who were also sentenced on drug charges, are to be heard on Monday.

Fraser’s appeal was turned down after his counsel, Mr. William Denny, who made a strong plea that the five weeks his client had already served was sufficient, had revealed that Fraser was now cured of his addiction.

Lord Parker said Fraser had been found in possession of heroin in a house raided at West Wittering: He had 24 tablets in his jacket pocket. Fraser had claimed he was a diabetic and that a doctor had prescribed for this. But this was completely untrue, for the tablets were his daily dose. Fraser by then was a heroin addict.

After being found in possession of the tablets Fraser had had the courage to go to a doctor who had started treatment of an extremely disagreeable kind. The court had been told that he was no longer an addict.

Lord Parker said the court wanted to make it clear that in considering Fraser’s case they were paying no attention whatsoever to any connection there might have been with the case of Jagger and Richard.

Good Family

What the court knew about those cases it was putting completely out of its mind in the case of Fraser. His case was approached in complete isolation.

Fraser, went on Lord Parker, could not expect any special treatment by reason of privileges through his station in life. He came from an extremely good family, had been to a famous public school and served with two renowned regiments.

But these privileges, if anything, carried greater responsibility and would tempt a court to give more rather than less in the way of a sentence.

A man in Fraser’s position was not sentenced because he was an addict. Everybody was extremely sorry for him. What he was being sentenced for was for commencing the taking of this drug.

In this particular case the court was dealing solely with heroin, and where heroin was concerned the court was satisfied that in the ordinary way, where there were no special circumstances, public interest demanded that some form of detention should be imposed.

“Heroin has been termed a killer and it must be remembered that anybody who takes heroin puts there body and soul into the hands of the supply or the supplier,” said Lord Parker.

The court was firmly of the opinion that a sentence of detention in the absence of special circumstances was a proper one.

The court, in considering whether the sentence was excessive, bore in mind that Fraser had the courage to go to a doctor and was now cured. But it was not satisfied that the sentence passed in any way erred in principle.

Earlier Mr. Denny had said that Fraser had an excellent background with a father who was a famous financier and had gone to a top-class public school. Five years ago he established his own art gallery in London’s West End which had met with considerable success.

Explaining how he had been introduced to the drug, Mr. Denny said that about a year ago Fraser was overworked and tired and was offered some drugs by an employee. He had never touched drugs of any kind before, but after four or five doses he was addicted.

After describing the steps Fraser had taken to get cured, Mr. Denny said: “Having heard the defendant had broken his addiction, one would have felt it possible that the Quarter Sessions would have leavened the condemnation of the offence with congratulations for its remedy.

“For here was a man who was himself the only victim of his offence. But of these matters put before the court one is bound to say that there is no indication that these matters weighed in terms of mitigation with the court.”

Greater responsibility

Mr. Denny added that there was no reason given by the court for imposing such a severe sentence.

Lord Parker then intervened to say: “I think personally that the greater the privileges of a man, his home, his background, his station in life, education at a public school and two renowned regiments—these very privileges give greater responsibility, and one is tempted to say that a man with these privileges must get more than an unfortunate man who has had no privileges.”

Lord Justice Winn also intervened during Mr. Denny’s argument and said: “Parliament must be taken to know the facts—heroin is a killer apart from complete moral destruction, death will follow inevitably from taking heroin. Only eight per cent of heroin addicts have lived for more than a few years.”

Mr. Denny said that Fraser had already served five weeks and he felt no further useful purpose would be served by keeping a person who had not harmed anyone else in prison any longer.

The resentment felt by Fraser when sentence was passed was understandable because the merits and the perspective of his particular case were lost in the events and the supercharges atmosphere in what happened in the following two days in the trial of his co-defendants Jagger and Richard.

Although Fraser had pleaded guilty he had been ordered to pay £200 costs. Jagger, who had pleaded not guilty in a case which had been fought and in which he was sentences to three months, was ordered to pay £100 costs. “One cannot see the rational of it,” said Mr. Denny.

Said Lord Justice Winn: “I cannot see that has anything to do with the sentence passed. One was for amphetamine and the other one was for heroin.”

And he added that here Fraser was getting a fresh hearing before a court which was paying no attention to the Richard and Jagger cases.

[quinloki]

Some Direction

Fem Reader x Roronoa Zoro

CW: Language, stalking, violence, sexual themes and situations, ptsd 18+ only

Chapter 1 - Table of Consent -

Chapter 21: Solid White Line

Things were a bit of a blur. You had injuries enough to warrant going to the hospital, and Zoro needed to have surgery for his gash on his face, along with a few other cuts he'd gotten during the fight. You yelled at him until he got on the gurney and then rode in the ambulance with him to the hospital. It was a little comical to see you practically growling at him until he obliged, and you apologized during the ride to the hospital for embarrassing him.

The EMTs in the ambulance with you had grins in their faces, but no one said anything. Zoro just squeezed your hand while the EMTs did their job.

The longest time you spent separated from him over the next three days was when he was in surgery.

Usopp survived - the shot that hit him didn't penetrate the mask he had been wearing, but the impact had knocked him out cold. He was still unconscious, and under police supervision and custody.

"Once he regains consciousness, he'll be processed and imprisoned pending trial." Smoker was explaining things to you and Zoro.

Zoro's surgery went as well as it could, but the bandages on his face - protecting his eye as it healed - weren't coming off yet. The hospital, with help from you and Mihawk, were keeping him on minimal activity and maximum bed rest until things healed enough. He was sitting up while Smoker and Tashigi were here, but he hadn't been arguing when you made him lay down otherwise. Though you imagined the lack of his complaining was because you'd often lay down with him, or at least stay nearby and hold his hand.

"You might be called to testify, but there's enough evidence that testimony might not be needed. His residence was filled with proof enough of his deeds." Smoker continues to explain.

"I... wouldn't be surprised if he confesses when he wakes up." You say, a troubled look on your face.

Zoro nods. "After he calms down."

Smoker grunts. "Given what he said to you in the warehouse, I wouldn't be surprised by any of that either. However things play out, I'll keep you as updated as I can. After all that you've both been through, it's the least I can do."

The officer looked like he had aged almost two years since you had first interacted with him over the break-in. You knew he had been stressed about how things had been handled, and you couldn't believe yours was the only case he had on his shoulders.

"We appreciate that. I'm glad everyone survived, and I hope Usopp gets the help he needs." You smile sadly and then squeeze Zoro's hand. "Preferably from quite the distance away from us, if I'm being honest."

"Understandable." Smoker admits.

"If there's anything we can do for you, don't hesitate to contact us." Tashigi offers, giving you a small card with her and Smoker's personal numbers on it.

"Thanks, and uh, I mean this as kindly as I can, but I hope I never have to see either of you after this is over." You admit sheepishly, gratefully accepting the card despite your words.

You hear Zoro grunt and after a second Smoker laughs. You're surprised, maybe even relieved, to hear actual joy in the man's laugh, given how serious and stressed he looked.

"May you never have need of us again," he agrees as he and Tashigi bow before leaving.

"How are you feeling today?" Zoro asks, running his hand gingerly over your midsection.

"Bruises hurt worse with time; I think." You admit, wincing a little as you let him shift you around so you're laying down beside him. The hospital bed is barely big enough for both of you, but ever since they disconnected most of the IVs from Zoro you had been spending a lot of time like this.

"Ready to leave tomorrow?"

"I'm ready to leave now." He grumbles.

You smile. "It's so awful being medically mandated to snuggle."

His ears flush red and his hand goes over your eyes, since he's not supposed to touch his. "You know that's not what I meant."

You giggle, tilting your head enough to kiss his palm. "I know." You snuggle into him a little, taking care not to press against the few stitches he had on his torso.

37 stitches in total. Twenty for the line on his face, and 17 others on his shoulder, arm, and torso. Nothing fatal. You had an assortment of bruises and rope burns, the worst of which were the ones on your stomach and the slap from Usopp that had split your lip and cut your cheek into your teeth. You were able to eat solid foods without too much pain, but two days of jello and applesauce had not put you in a pleasant mood.

Not that you had said much on it. You felt horribly guilty about the entire ordeal. You felt like you had gotten off light compared to what Zoro went through. You had dealt with Usopp for hours and had a few bruises and a busted mouth. He had dealt with him for a few minutes and might have lost his eye because you couldn't get away fast enough.

In that vein of thinking, you had several sessions of therapy to attend as well. It had been offered by the government, and Mihawk had recommended that you both accept the offer. Better to work through what had happened with a professional, than to lean on another alone and hope for the best. Since you were having a hard time even talking about what was on your chest, you couldn't disagree.

"I wanted to ask," you say after a moment's silence. "I love the ring, but why is there a star etched in it?"

Zoro's face was instantly red, and his hand was over your face as you felt his whole body tense. There was a long silence, and you could feel his heart beating faster in his chest.

"Later." He finally manages, a moment before you were going to tell him he didn't have to tell you right now. "After we get home."

You nod. "Okay."

. . . . .

You and Mihawk were in the room with Zoro as the attending doctor, a man named Hongo with dirty blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, was checking Zoro's eye wound. The doctor was tall and broad-shouldered, but not overly bulky. He looked bigger than Mihawk and Zoro only because the other two were leaner than you expected from a couple martial artists.

"It's healing up nicely. The blade was sharp and that has actually helped." He leans back. "I've cleaned off the glue we were using to keep it still, can you open it for me?"

"Yeah, I think so." Zoro answers.

You had a death grip on Mihawk. You were sure you were almost crushing his hand, but he made no noise and offered no complaints. His other hand was over yours, offering comfort while you both watched things unfold.

"Seems the initial prognosis was correct... what do you see?"

"It's blurry."

"Painful at all?"

"Not really. Things are bright."

"That's good. Give it a couple more days, keep it clean, feel free to cover it up so you don't strain it. You might come away with this only needing some glasses, Mr. Roronoa." Dr. Hongo says, straightening up and tucking a light back in his pocket. "Bit of a miracle, honestly."

"It's okay then? His eye's okay?" You question hopefully, worried you had been misunderstanding the exchange.

Zoro turns to you, and you can see for yourself. It's red and swollen a little still, but it's intact and you can see that he sees you with it, blurry or not. Your legs buckle and Mihawk lowers you gently to the ground as you start crying in relief.

"I thought... you were gonna lose your eye... b-because you had to p-protect me!" You manage to choke the words out for the first time, covering your face in embarrassment, already well aware he would be irritated knowing you had been thinking that way. "I was so worried, and I couldn't say anything..."

"That's my cue," Hongo offers quietly, excusing himself from the room with a nod.

Mihawk pats your head lightly and steps out of the room as well. Zoro stands up from the bed and comes over to you. He stands there quietly for a moment before sitting down beside you. He doesn't say anything, just sits beside you while you get the tears out of your system. Giving you time and space to calm down without pressure.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly, after you get your tears and breathing under control.

"For what?"

"... For... for feeling this guilty about it," you say after a moment. "I know it wasn't my fault, but it feels like it is and-."

His arms wrap around you, and he moves you into his lap easily. Sitting on the floor cradled against him calms you down. You want to admonish him for moving around so much even though he still has stitches, but you don't feel him flinch or twitch in pain, and the warmth of his embrace is comforting.

"It's okay." He says softly, kissing the top of your head.

"D-don't say something like you would've given both your eyes, or some other equally unacceptable outcome." You pout and feel him flinch. "Marimo."

Zoro clicks his tongue. "Don't you start."

"Marimos are cute."

"That's half my problem with that name."

"The other half?"

"... I like the way you say my name better."

Your face flushes as he hugs you.

"I can't promise I won't risk myself for you." He says, after a moment. His tone is a little apologetic, but it's more that his conviction is set.

"I know." You admit, a small pout in your vice.

You knew who he was. You knew his protective streak was only matched by his scowl. You knew he would've given an eye or more to see you come out of the ordeal unscathed and would've been almost inconsolable if you had suffered any loss yourself.

The double standard could be aggravating, but you understood it at least. You did what you did during your time with Usopp because you knew if you risked too much and died, he would never forgive himself. But you had to risk something in order to do all you could to protect him. Better to regret your actions than to lament your inactions after the fact.

Even if you weren't as strong, or as skilled, it didn't change the fact that you needed him to be okay. No matter what he risked and no matter what you faced.

"Hey, say it again." He prompts you, hugging you close.

You smile. "I love you."

[thehazbins]

About: Marion Ette

(Image Pending)

Nicknames: N/A Currently

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Pansexual

Appearance: Short black hair, pale almost porcelain skin, dresses with ruffles and lace.

Personality: Charismatic, Friendly, Playful, Analytical

Backstory (TW: Death, Manipulation) : Marion was young when she was told what exactly would happen in her life. She was to study hard, and when she grew up- she was to be a lawyer. At first it sounded fine because she didn't know what that was except for winning arguments often. Both her parents were in law and it was simply expected of her.

However, as she grew she realized she hated that idea. But, didn't have much choice as her parents didn't allow her a job or much spending money. Not much time for fun either. The most she got was sketching likely on the margins of notebooks. When she went to college she had some freedom and there she explored more. She learned she loved to paint, love to draw, sing, dance, make toys. That was her dream, to bring joy to people.

She began saving in college. Eventually moved out properly and cut contact with her parents. She wasn't able to drop the lawyer bit quite yet- it was making her money. She didn't have time for much in the way of hobbies either. She dreamed of painting and more than once was tempted to quit. However, every time she heard her parents voices scolding her. Telling her she'd amount to nothing. And then she signed with a big law firm and started making money. It seemed a sign to stay.

She felt like the universe was against her.

Many times she got the awful clients, but she was good at her job. She got them less time at the minimum, and a not guilty if things went really well. She started joking early on that they owed her one. It was just a thing she did.

She met a guy, he wasn't a lawyer, he wasn't in law, he wasn't a doctor... he was just a guy. He was kind, or so it seemed. He did the housework on her long days, he cooked dinner. They started planning to run away together out of the country. Where she could start over. Maybe actually get to make toys, or art of any sort... It was her dream and what kept her living.

Until she was 35. She went to check her account- thinking she should have enough in the next 6 months to a year depending on her case pay out.

There was nothing. The account was in the red by over a grand.

The only one who had access to the account was her now fiancé, he had put some money in once for her.

She confronted him the moment he walked back through the door, he told her he'd win it back, he just had to catch his lucky break. He promised her again and again that it would work out.

Marion saw red, quite literally. It's a blur but she remembers grabbing a knife in a fit of rage and realizing what had happened. She ran, she ran fast. But not fast enough. She never made it to trial. Before she knew it she woke up in hell.

It took a little bit of fending for herself but she began to realize she could find old clients of hers there. And per verbal contract... they owed her one.

She did offer them protection in return and built up enough power to protect herself and her clientele. She's taken to doing whatever she wants Usually that entails having fun and going where she pleases. She's not sadistic, just a girl who reached the end of her strings.

[mugiwara-no-toshokan]

Some Direction

CisFem Reader x Roronoa Zoro

CW: Language, stalking, violence, sexual themes and situations, ptsd -- surprisingly fluffy despite it all. 18+ only

Chapter 21: Solid White Line

Things were a bit of a blur. You had injuries enough to warrant going to the hospital, and Zoro needed to have surgery for his gash on his face, along with a few other cuts he'd gotten during the fight. You yelled at him until he got on the gurney and then rode in the ambulance with him to the hospital. It was a little comical to see you practically growling at him until he obliged, and you apologized during the ride to the hospital for embarrassing him.

The EMTs in the ambulance with you had grins in their faces, but no one said anything. Zoro just squeezed your hand while the EMTs did their job.

The longest time you spent separated from him over the next three days was when he was in surgery.

Usopp survived - the shot that hit him didn't penetrate the mask he had been wearing, but the impact had knocked him out cold. He was still unconscious, and under police supervision and custody.

"Once he regains consciousness, he'll be processed and imprisoned pending trial." Smoker was explaining things to you and Zoro.

Zoro's surgery went as well as it could, but the bandages on his face - protecting his eye as it healed - weren't coming off yet. The hospital, with help from you and Mihawk, were keeping him on minimal activity and maximum bed rest until things healed enough. He was sitting up while Smoker and Tashigi were here, but he hadn't been arguing when you made him lay down otherwise. Though you imagined the lack of his complaining was because you'd often lay down with him, or at least stay nearby and hold his hand.

"You might be called to testify, but there's enough evidence that testimony might not be needed. His residence was filled with proof enough of his deeds." Smoker continues to explain.

"I... wouldn't be surprised if he confesses when he wakes up." You say, a troubled look on your face.

Zoro nods. "After he calms down."

Smoker grunts. "Given what he said to you in the warehouse, I wouldn't be surprised by any of that either. However things play out, I'll keep you as updated as I can. After all that you've both been through, it's the least I can do."

The officer looked like he had aged almost two years since you had first interacted with him over the break-in. You knew he had been stressed about how things had been handled, and you couldn't believe yours was the only case he had on his shoulders.

"We appreciate that. I'm glad everyone survived, and I hope Usopp gets the help he needs." You smile sadly and then squeeze Zoro's hand. "Preferably from quite the distance away from us, if I'm being honest."

"Understandable." Smoker admits.

"If there's anything we can do for you, don't hesitate to contact us." Tashigi offers, giving you a small card with her and Smoker's personal numbers on it.

"Thanks, and uh, I mean this as kindly as I can, but I hope I never have to see either of you after this is over." You admit sheepishly, gratefully accepting the card despite your words.

You hear Zoro grunt and after a second Smoker laughs. You're surprised, maybe even relieved, to hear actual joy in the man's laugh, given how serious and stressed he looked.

"May you never have need of us again," he agrees as he and Tashigi bow before leaving.

"How are you feeling today?" Zoro asks, running his hand gingerly over your midsection.

"Bruises hurt worse with time; I think." You admit, wincing a little as you let him shift you around so you're laying down beside him. The hospital bed is barely big enough for both of you, but ever since they disconnected most of the IVs from Zoro you had been spending a lot of time like this.

"Ready to leave tomorrow?"

"I'm ready to leave now." He grumbles.

You smile. "It's so awful being medically mandated to snuggle."

His ears flush red and his hand goes over your eyes, since he's not supposed to touch his. "You know that's not what I meant."

You giggle, tilting your head enough to kiss his palm. "I know." You snuggle into him a little, taking care not to press against the few stitches he had on his torso.

37 stitches in total. Twenty for the line on his face, and 17 others on his shoulder, arm, and torso. Nothing fatal. You had an assortment of bruises and rope burns, the worst of which were the ones on your stomach and the slap from Usopp that had split your lip and cut your cheek into your teeth. You were able to eat solid foods without too much pain, but two days of jello and applesauce had not put you in a pleasant mood.

Not that you had said much on it. You felt horribly guilty about the entire ordeal. You felt like you had gotten off light compared to what Zoro went through. You had dealt with Usopp for hours and had a few bruises and a busted mouth. He had dealt with him for a few minutes and might have lost his eye because you couldn't get away fast enough.

In that vein of thinking, you had several sessions of therapy to attend as well. It had been offered by the government, and Mihawk had recommended that you both accept the offer. Better to work through what had happened with a professional, than to lean on another alone and hope for the best. Since you were having a hard time even talking about what was on your chest, you couldn't disagree.

"I wanted to ask," you say after a moment's silence. "I love the ring, but why is there a star etched in it?"

Zoro's face was instantly red, and his hand was over your face as you felt his whole body tense. There was a long silence, and you could feel his heart beating faster in his chest.

"Later." He finally manages, a moment before you were going to tell him he didn't have to tell you right now. "After we get home."

You nod. "Okay."

. . . . .

You and Mihawk were in the room with Zoro as the attending doctor, a man named Hongo with dirty blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, was checking Zoro's eye wound. The doctor was tall and broad-shouldered, but not overly bulky. He looked bigger than Mihawk and Zoro only because the other two were leaner than you expected from a couple martial artists.

"It's healing up nicely. The blade was sharp and that has actually helped." He leans back. "I've cleaned off the glue we were using to keep it still, can you open it for me?"

"Yeah, I think so." Zoro answers.

You had a death grip on Mihawk. You were sure you were almost crushing his hand, but he made no noise and offered no complaints. His other hand was over yours, offering comfort while you both watched things unfold.

"Seems the initial prognosis was correct... what do you see?"

"It's blurry."

"Painful at all?"

"Not really. Things are bright."

"That's good. Give it a couple more days, keep it clean, feel free to cover it up so you don't strain it. You might come away with this only needing some glasses, Mr. Roronoa." Dr. Hongo says, straightening up and tucking a light back in his pocket. "Bit of a miracle, honestly."

"It's okay then? His eye's okay?" You question hopefully, worried you had been misunderstanding the exchange.

Zoro turns to you, and you can see for yourself. It's red and swollen a little still, but it's intact and you can see that he sees you with it, blurry or not. Your legs buckle and Mihawk lowers you gently to the ground as you start crying in relief.

"I thought... you were gonna lose your eye... b-because you had to p-protect me!" You manage to choke the words out for the first time, covering your face in embarrassment, already well aware he would be irritated knowing you had been thinking that way. "I was so worried, and I couldn't say anything..."

"That's my cue," Hongo offers quietly, excusing himself from the room with a nod.

Mihawk pats your head lightly and steps out of the room as well. Zoro stands up from the bed and comes over to you. He stands there quietly for a moment before sitting down beside you. He doesn't say anything, just sits beside you while you get the tears out of your system. Giving you time and space to calm down without pressure.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly, after you get your tears and breathing under control.

"For what?"

"... For... for feeling this guilty about it," you say after a moment. "I know it wasn't my fault, but it feels like it is and-."

His arms wrap around you, and he moves you into his lap easily. Sitting on the floor cradled against him calms you down. You want to admonish him for moving around so much even though he still has stitches, but you don't feel him flinch or twitch in pain, and the warmth of his embrace is comforting.

"It's okay." He says softly, kissing the top of your head.

"D-don't say something like you would've given both your eyes, or some other equally unacceptable outcome." You pout and feel him flinch. "Marimo."

Zoro clicks his tongue. "Don't you start."

"Marimos are cute."

"That's half my problem with that name."

"The other half?"

"... I like the way you say my name better."

Your face flushes as he hugs you.

"I can't promise I won't risk myself for you." He says, after a moment. His tone is a little apologetic, but it's more that his conviction is set.

"I know." You admit, a small pout in your vice.

You knew who he was. You knew his protective streak was only matched by his scowl. You knew he would've given an eye or more to see you come out of the ordeal unscathed and would've been almost inconsolable if you had suffered any loss yourself.

The double standard could be aggravating, but you understood it at least. You did what you did during your time with Usopp because you knew if you risked too much and died, he would never forgive himself. But you had to risk something in order to do all you could to protect him. Better to regret your actions than to lament your inactions after the fact.

Even if you weren't as strong, or as skilled, it didn't change the fact that you needed him to be okay. No matter what he risked and no matter what you faced.

"Hey, say it again." He prompts you, hugging you close.

You smile. "I love you."

[mariacallous]

BARCELONA, Nov 20 (Reuters) - Shakira is to stand trial in Barcelona on Monday to face charges that she failed to pay 14.5 million euros ($15.74 million) in Spanish income tax between 2012 and 2014.

The 'Hips Don't Lie' Colombian megastar, who also has a second tax fraud investigation pending with Spanish authorities, has vowed to fight what she called false accusations.

Shakira says she had paid what the tax office said was owed before it filed a lawsuit, and insists she was not living in Spain during the period as her work led to a "nomadic life".

She rejected a settlement offer from the prosecutor's office to close the case and is expected to testify on Monday in the first of 12 hearings scheduled until Dec. 14.

The prosecutor's office is seeking an up to eight-year prison term and to claim back the taxes it says she owes.

It alleges that Shakira spent more than half of each of the years in question in Spain and was therefore ordinarily resident in the country. It also says that a Barcelona property she bought in May 2012 served as a family home.

Shakira, 46, lived with former Barcelona and Spain soccer star Gerard Pique for 11 years and the couple have two children. The singer, whose full name is Shakira Isabel Mebarak Ripoll, moved to Miami after their separation.

Judge Jose Manuel del Amo Sanchez, who has handled other high-profile cases, will chair a panel of three judges who are set to hear more than 100 testimonies during the course of the trial, which is due to start at 10 a.m (0900 GMT).

Spanish authorities have pursued other major celebrities over tax evasion including soccer players such as Portugal's Cristiano Ronaldo, Argentina's Lionel Messi and Brazilian-Spanish player Diego Costa. All settled and paid large fines.

However, Spain's Supreme Court last month upheld the acquittal of Bayer Leverkusen coach Xabi Alonso in another tax case. Alonso had refused to settle and eventually won at trial.