#he had issues around questions of authority and respectability

[hadesrise]

heart of gold, heart of cold.

summary ➳ you’re much more than just the nicest boy in southside chicago

pairings ➳ ian gallagher x male reader x mickey milkovich

warnings ➳ fluff, foul language, violence, soft boy!reader, homophobia, established polyamorous relationship, absolute badassery lol, mentions of sex, a little apathy, small mention of blood, good but actually not trope, some mental issues

author’s note ➳ haven’t watched shameless, only gallavich scenes and few other moments. my anger issues can’t handle watching all of that. which is why none of my writing of them’s gonna be accurate to the timeline of the series.

Ian and Mickey couldn’t remember the time you were ever mean to anyone even before meeting you, had never even heard of your name being thrown around without it being extremely positive. Everyone had to say everything about you, which is understandable, considering you were definitely the odd type to be in southside Chicago — this place was full of shit with robbery being nonchalantly committed, guns shooting off in different areas, bunch of unconvicted pedophiles walking around, and teenagers high on whatever fucking heavy drugs they first could touch, while you’re out there, helping whoever you think might need help and genuinely being nice to even the worst fucking thugs you would ever meet.

It’s questionable, how someone could be in southside and grow up perfectly sane and not bottled up with any issues or anger.

You’ve always been the talk around the neighborhood, how the (L/n) kid helped some randos again, how you talked to them with the nicest personality and utmost respect, how you smile at anyone who passes by whenever you make eye contact with them, how you were calm in dealing with a situation most people would get frustrated at; just about anything positive. It wasn’t difficult for both Ian and Mickey to fall for you as much as they fell for each other. You were like a single flower blooming in the middle of a garden that a person would come back to just to see your beauty; something about your softness and kind personality struck a core into both of their hearts.

They never had someone like you in their life. A calm, soothing, comforting presence, like the warm sun in the morning. An accepting, welcoming presence, like the mother earth. You’ve always been gentle with them — not something they’re used to, considering the type of household they grew up in — always checking in, making sure they’re okay even if they push you away, taking care of them.

You’re one of the first person Ian came out to other than his family, because he knew you’d never judge. Mickey was rather an asshole in your first meet, nearly beating you up, but the way you didn’t snark or your nice demeanor didn’t change no matter what insults he threw at you made him hesitant, which never happened with Milkovich’s.

When they started sleeping together, you caught on it quickly before anyone else ever did and kept it a secret the entire time, knowing the personal problems they had to deal with; Ian and Mickey only found out you knew when you stopped Terry from making Mickey have sex with Svetlana by just walking in on the interaction. The near innocence in your eyes as you tilted your head slightly to the side, just staring at Terry until he grew uncomfortable and rushed off. He could never stand being near to you, especially with how holier than thou you were. It wasn’t actually an accident to walk in, but they don’t know that.

Despite the awkward circumstances, you were calm and paid Svetlana a good amount before getting both of them dressed and taking care of them, even though they didn’t have to be taken cared of. Your gentleness with them that time really caused something to burst within their chest, the same feeling they were starting to develop towards each other. The acceptance, the comfort, the gentleness. Everything about you felt magical — you felt magical.

Even after Ian and Mickey figured out their shit together, officially came out, figured out their shit together again that both of them liked you, flirted with you and won you over, and officially came out again to their family as polyamorous couple, they had never seen you be a dick. Sure, you swore a lot sometimes when you drop something or miss something, but never towards anyone. They never saw you doing the typical southside thing, being rebellious, smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol, doing drugs or shit.

You’re always nice — and it’s supposed to be a good thing, but it also gets a lot concerning, especially when some dumb fucking guy punched you in the face for mistaking you as someone who slept with his girlfriend and you had the audacity to forgive him when he apologized, making Mickey nearly wanting to strangle you right then and there.

“Why the fuck did you forgive him?” Mickey snarls and shuts the fridge door close, ice pack in hand as he throws it to Ian, who immediately began pressing it to your cheek that was beginning to form a bruise.

You shrugged, “He just mistook me for someone else.”

“Yeah, and fucking punched you in the face without asking first who the fuck you are.” Mickey retorted, giving you a death glare. He moves around to stand beside you on the opposite side of Ian.

You were sitting on the counter facing the dining table where Fiona, Lip, Liam, Carl, Debbie, Sandy, Mandy, and Franny were, all contorting worried look since you’re the nicest and you having a single bruise means when the people you helped before sees it they’re gonna flip over and bury the guy ten feet under while still breathing. Everyone knew you, and you’re literally the holiest within southside, so they naturally hated when someone messed with you.

Your hand shoots up to rub his arm gently, warm look in your eyes as your soft voice speaks to comfort him. “Calm down, Mick. Let it go, I’m fine.” You smile softly, “It was just a little mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”

Mickey frowns, still angry yet definitely calm now that you’re giving him comfort. “You’re too fucking nice, it’s making me sick.”

You chuckled, grabbing the ice pack from Ian to press it on your cheek yourself. You pull Ian to kiss him on the cheek before doing the same to Mickey, knowing it will help tone down their anger. “At least I have my own guard dogs.” You joke, earning a snicker from the group.

“Haha, very funny.” Mickey sarcastically replies.

Ian sighs, “(Y/n), I think Mickey’s right though. You’re too nice, maybe a bit much. Even to Frank and Terry.” He agreed with his other boyfriend, who puts his hands up in a gesture of i told you so.

You tilted your head, still smiling. “Frank’s your father and Terry’s Mickey’s father. No matter how horrible they are, I don’t think I could treat them any differently from how I treat others.” Shrugging, you ignored both of your boyfriends’ groan and sipped on the orange juice resting on your side.

“What’s up with you treating everyone equally and being unnaturally nice to even someone who doesn’t deserve it?” Fiona asked, genuinely confused with her brows furrowed together and crease forming on her forehead. “You were even nice with Monica.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking for a while.

You could tell them what was really going on, but it would be too much to dump it on them all of a sudden. Being nice and having a lot of patience is a lot difficult, but you learned to, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to survive. It’s a survival skill that you had to adapt to; be nice and you get everything you want. A little... useful tactic that you taught yourself, though it’s more than that.

Deciding against telling them, because it’ll get out when it gets out, you simply gave her a tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “I like spreading dumb kindness. I think it helps people who deals with mental health issues that their relatives probably don’t even know. I might’ve been nice to them and turned their bad day into good day. Small things like that has an impact, you know.”

Mickey scowled, “That makes no sense.”

You simply smiled and patted his cheek, turning to Ian who placed his hand on your waist. “I still think you should’ve done something, (Y/n). Press charges or something.” He said, wanting to convince you.

Shaking your head with a reassuring smile, you kissed his lips and Mickey’s, successfully shutting both of them up as you hopped off of the counter. “I’m going to change. Take me out on a date, will you two?” You let your hands linger on each of their arm before walking away with an angelic smile, leaving the boys staring after you in slight awe.

“Oh my god, you two are so fucking smitten with him.” Sandy remarked, laughing. The others nodded in agreement, deeply amused.

Ian and Mickey rolled their eyes, “The fuck we’re not.” Mickey denies, though failing to convince them and himself.

“But you are,” Lip shrugged. “He’s got you wrapped all around his finger.”

“Kinda cute if you ask me,” Fiona chuckles.

“Oh, fuck off.” Ian retorts, a smile across his face.

Neither would admit it, but they really were. Equally smitten with one another, your relationship had always been wholesome, except for the times all three of you were friends with benefits.

Ian and Mickey slept together first obviously, only started hooking up with you after the incident with Terry. Mickey was first to do it when he went to your house to spend time with you since you’re the only person he could trust aside from Ian, the casual conversation taking a turn after he had asked if you would fuck him if you were gay, which you told him you were, causing Mickey to literally demand a fuck from you.

“Hey, man?” Mickey slowly called to you who was sitting on the opposite side of the ridiculously big couch, eyes focused on the movie with a can of coke in your hand.

“Hm?” You hum, turning to look at him despite being completely indulged in the movie plot. Mickey liked that, how you’re willing to give him your full attention even though you’re busy and don’t even have to look at him at all.

He glances down, picking with his hand, slightly nervous. But he knew you wouldn’t judge, you never did. It was unlikely of him to feel this way, but Mickey couldn’t help it. Nearly unbearable to talk to someone as nice and caring as you yet can’t bring himself to stay away.

“Would you—would you fuck me if you were, you know, fucking gay?”

Your brows raised at the random question. Though it wasn’t difficult to realize it’s because of the previous gay scene in the movie you’re watching where the main characters made love to each other without it being censored and shit. “Well,” You started with a small smile adorning your face, “I don’t know if you knew but I’m actually gay, Milkovich.”

Mickey’s head snapped to your side, eyes wide. “Wait, what? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? Or Ian?”

“You didn’t ask,” You simply shrugged. “I normally don’t go around announcing to everybody what my sexuality is. Kind of weird if I did that,” You joked, earning a glare from the Milkovich. “But honestly, I didn’t think it was something I had to tell you or Ian. I just let people guess or notice it on their own.”

“How the fuck do they even notice?" Mickey remarks, furrowing his brows. “I’ve literally never seen you with any guys or girls. Have you even hooked up with somebody?”

You chuckled, “Nope. Wasn’t really interested.”

“Damn,” Mickey gave you a weird look. It was so odd to see someone in southside not doing drugs or shit, let alone sleeping around with whoever they liked. He wasn’t used to it. Now, you feel like a fucking holy being or something. But then, Mickey realizes you never actually answered his question, so he repeated again. “You didn’t answer my fucking question, would you fuck me?”

You’re gay, so might as well shoot his shot. Can’t really miss this opportunity.

You stare at him, something glinting in your eyes that definitely wasn’t innocence. Your lips slowly formed a sly grin as you tilted your head. “What if I said yes? What are you gonna do?”

A smile appeared on Mickey’s lips, “Then fucking get on with it, (L/n).”

Conveniently, you were a switch so Mickey didn’t have to pretend he didn’t like having dick in his ass. He told Ian he slept with you that came off as surprise since apparently Ian also didn’t know you were gay, which led to Ian sleeping with you as well.

“You’re so weird,” Ian laughed when he caught you stacking some nuggets together to build a makeshift tower, having woken up from a friendly sleepover at your house.

You grinned and stacked the last piece of nugget, looking at Ian as you gestured to your work of art. “Tadaaaa!” It caused him to burst out laughing, sitting down beside you on the couch.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked between laughter.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I was bored and you weren’t waking up anytime soon. Figured I’d kill my time.” Smiling, you offered him a can of beer that was sitting on the table, having just taken out from the fridge. Ian accepted, thanking you. “How did you sleep?”

Ian smiled after taking a gulp from the beer and placed it down on the table, “Great, actually. Like the times I haven’t been able to sleep isn’t real.” Relief was evident on his face, considering how big the bags under his eyes were. He never mentioned that you were the reason of him being unable to fall asleep, always thinking of you ever since that horrible day that suddenly turned great with your presence. Hearing about you sleeping with Mickey made him decide nothing will happen if he just thinks around, thus the sleepover.

A soft look crosses your face as you begin to play with his hair, touch displaying gentleness Ian had never felt before. His eyes met yours, such a warm gaze making him feel loved even without doing anything. “Well, I’m glad the cuddle worked, Gallagher. You can always come to me when you can’t sleep, I’ll hold you until you can.” Voice merely above a whisper, you gently told him.

Ian was feeling breathless. Everything about your welcoming and accepting nature deemed temptation; his pupils dilating, throat suddenly dry as if he’s been dehydrated, stomach growling as if hasn’t eaten in days, feeling your soft hand brush through his ginger hair as you stared at him innocently yet almost seducing. The tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. And with the growing urge to just give in to the temptation, Ian leaned forward without a second thought, capturing your lips in a kiss.

You made a noise of surprise that immediately caused Ian to pull away, a panicked look in his eyes, scared he might’ve ruined the most precious friendship he’s ever had. Series of apology slipped past his lips, but you shut him up by putting a finger up to his lips.

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, silly.” You reassured, though concern plastered your face. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah,” His response was nearly quick. “Why do you think I agreed to a sleepover?”

That angelic smile of yours returned again, chuckling. “Okay then, Gallagher. Do whatever you want.” You said before kissing him again, letting the rest of the day continue.

Again, it was convenient that you’re a switch, because even though Ian has tried bottoming before, he preferred topping, especially with you or Mickey. Well, you and Mickey now. Those sleeping around days were a lot... wild, to say the least.

You never slept with anyone besides Ian and Mickey, always uninterested in other guys and turning them down nicely quite often, which Mandy — your bestfriend — noticed.

Questionable, of course, because there was one incident at the Alibi where she, Lip, and Fiona were present and you and Ian came out the bathroom covered in hickeys, not even bothering to hide them as the two of you sat down with them. However, when a guy noticed and realized what happened, they attempted to shoot their shot with you, miserably failing as you turned it down without further acknowledgement while Ian just shrugged, as if he already knew that was going to be your answer. Then, Mickey suddenly barged in only to tell you a short “not tired yet, are ya?” while walking to the bathroom, and you smiled at Ian before following Mickey.

It happened quite a lot in different circumstances that even the Gallaghers caught up on how Ian and Mickey are the only ones you let getting in your pants.

It was a messy and complicated time where everyone had to deal with their own shit; Mickey with his homophobic upbringing and sexual crisis, Ian with his confusion in feeling something for both you and Mickey at the same time and doubts to himself, you with accepting your romantic attraction to both of them, keeping it locked in, and fulfilling the desire to be with them by sleeping with them. It’s either they slept with each other, you slept with either of them, or the three of you slept together, all bonded somehow. Ian and Mickey were the first ones to get their shit together and officially became partners, and well... it honestly didn’t turn out good back then due to you still dealing with your own shit that nobody ever noticed. That story could be for another day, though.

The point is, your friendship used to be wholesome, but the extent of it increased more when you three settled after all that shitshow. There were some toxicity at first, especially with Mickey struggling to overcome the genuinely awful upbringing he had — he was dating a guy after all, and not just one but two — along with Ian’s diagnosis of bipolar disorder. But having each other and not giving up on each other made the toxicity disappear and morph into something positive, each of you going through some relationship development together.

Compared to back then, the three of you had grown overly comfortable with each other and the polyamorous relationship you had, not feeling discomfort when people look at you weirdly. Coming to terms with the issues truly helped.

However, neither Ian nor Mickey had come to terms with your kindness towards people who didn’t deserve it, and they absolutely have no plans of coming to terms with it at all. People can be a lot rude and asshole when you’re nice to them, which is why they simultaneously keep themselves and each other from strangling the person’s neck everytime it treated or spoke to you horribly.

Well, frankly, nobody would understand and you don’t expect them to. Too bad they’re going to have to sooner than later, because you’ve been feeling a little irritable — it’s only a matter of time before the truth cracks through the surface of friendliness and nice personality you’ve plastered on.

Once it does, people will be fucked.

You know who you are when you’re not nice; it’s never a pretty sight. It’s a bloodbath.

Everything seemed perfect.

Dinner’s pretty cheap, but not unbearable. One of the nicest things about you is that you don’t care for the price as long as it’s edible and tasty. You’re not the one to fuss over the cheapness or expensiveness of anything and the Gallaghers loved that, because you wouldn’t talk shit of how they can’t afford shit. Birthdays are special occasion where people usually ask for expensive gifts, but the Gallaghers were always reminded by you not to go grand on celebrations or presents, because you didn’t like them spending their money on something other than theirselves.

They still went with it though, going to a cheap local bar where they serve cheap dinner so everyone could celebrate the birth date of you, who was born special in southside Chicago with kindness that’s seemingly a curse.

The night went by smoothly, everyone enjoying their time and having fun — You, Ian, Mickey, Mandy, Sandy, Lip, Fiona, Liam, Debbie, Franny, Veronica, Kev, and even Frank who was by the bar because his family disapproved of him joining. He still did, considering you’re the nicest kid he’s ever met.

Perfect. Everything was perfect. Too perfect that it’s becoming strange, how well this night is going.

You were absolutely correct to feel like that.

Mickey’s blood was boiling at the man that had suddenly approached the table with a friendly smile only to go around spitting whatever the fuck he wanted to talk about, mainly nasty things. But according to him, he knew you and you knew him, well enough, even though they didn’t know him despite being your boyfriends. The Gallaghers were collectively surprised of his sudden appearance, considering none of them knew him, but concerns littered their faces when the man mentioned you.

“I honestly don’t know what (Y/n)’s thinking, hanging out with Gallaghers and dating one,” The man, who ( unwantedly ) introduced himself as Caius snickered.

Ian, despite his annoyance increasing at Caius’ presence, tried to remain calm. “What’s it to you? And fyi, he’s also dating him, so don’t fucking talk like that.” He pointed at Mickey, who glared daggers at the man.

“Fuck, he’s dating two guys?” Caius laughed mockingly. “And a Milkovich at that. But aren’t you, like, bipolar though? With the gene.” His mention of the diagnosis made Mickey furious as he slammed his hands against the table and attempted to stand up, only to be held back by Ian. Everyone had their blood boiling now, but forced themselves to keep calm since it’s your birthday. Nobody wanted to ruin it for you.

“I guess crazy psychopaths are his type, huh? With how the screws in his head are fucking loose, I’m not surprised.” He snarled, looking at both of them. However, his words cuts through the boiling rage within Ian and Mickey as they both processed his words, furrowing their brows in confusion at the mention of the screws in your head being loose.

Before anyone could utter a single word, the loud sound of wine bottle smashing against the back of Caius’ head erupts throughout the entire bar as he dropped to the floor cursing loudly, revealing you holding the remaining end of the shattered bottle. The nice look on your face no longer visible as it contorted into an emotionless expression, eyes holding utmost coldness with some unknown darkness within them that sent chills up everyone’s spine.

You merely acknowledged Caius groaning in pain on the floor, throwing away the shattered piece of the wine bottle to the side as you nonchalantly patted off your hands of any invisible dirt.

“Oh my fucking god,” Fiona was the first to react, terrified as she witnessed Caius touch the back of his head and get a blood on his palm. The other Gallaghers were already standing a feet away as they all jumped up and away from the table when you smashed a bottle on the man’s head, completely shocked and stunned, Lip and Carl letting out holy fuck.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

“What the fuck did you just do?”

Ian and Mickey exclaimed in sync, with Ian looking at you while Mickey at Caius, both eyes wide and shock on their faces.

You shrugged, the usual smile completely nonexistent. “Smashed a bottle on an old friend’s head after talking shit about my boyfriends.” The slightest hint of apathy in your tone worried them a bit, but you quickly shifted your cold gaze to Caius. “Quit fucking moaning, Caius. You already saw it coming when you decided to approach them while I was gone for the bathroom.”

“Fuck,” Caius groaned, laying on his back to shoot you a glare. “I just got fucking discharged from the hospital you put me in, shithead. A little nice sympathy maybe? The one you fucking show people.”

“Certainly didn’t need sympathy when you brought up Ian’s bipolar disorder,” You smiled sarcastically. “And don’t be fucking dramatic, it was just few broken bones.”

“You made me fucking bleed internally and you wanna call that just a few broken bones?” Caius snapped. Everyone’s eyes widened.

Rolling your eyes, you folded the sleeves up of your button up while clenching and unclenching your fist, something that Ian and Mickey didn’t miss. “Serves you right for planning to shoot Micky Milkovich. Unfortunately for you, I genuinely and utterly loathe someone describing either of them as crazy psychopaths, especially since Ian’s been diagnosed bipolar, so...”

You grinned sadistically.

“Consider today your finally meet God and be sent to Hell day.”

Everyone watched as you rub your face while talking to the cops about what happened inside the bar, the back of your hand all bloody and knuckles busted, probably tainted in both Caius’ and your own blood. It was scary to see you so violent and, as Caius said, have screws in the head loose. The unlikeliness and the way you acted and looked so different from how you usually were terrified them.

Not Ian and Mickey, though. They were standing on both of your sides while the rest were a few feet behind, still attempting to calm down from the shock of witnessing your change in attitude and your true colors seeping through the cracks.

Your entire demeanor now was back to normal; not that cold and expressionless presence with terrifying apathy, but the warm, full of expression and accepting presence. You had quietly greeted the cops earlier with a small smile that turned into a frown of guilt, which somehow was enough for them not to handcuff you despite the damage you caused on Caius.

“I probably shouldn’t have done all of those to him,” You muttered thoughtfully while biting your lip. “I don’t think I regret it though. He crossed the line, I got pissed.”

“You normally don’t get pissed, Mr. (L/n).” One of the cops remarked.

Shrugging your shoulders, you gave them a small smile. “That’s just what you think of me. I don’t really care if people insult me or talk shit about me, but my boyfriends are one of the most significant people in my life, so they’re off-limits. I really can’t handle anyone talking shit about them.” Your soft tone falling down to a serious and firm one, you narrowed your eyes at the ambulance that contained Caius’ unconscious body.

“Are Mr. Milkovich and Mr. Gallagher basically your trigger?” The other cop wondered.

You nodded immediately, “Yeah. I think so.” Rubbing your nape with the uninjured hand nervously, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Shouldn’t you be handcuffing me? I definitely went too far, I blacked out in anger, and he’s unconscious with some injuries that are probably worse than what I think, so…” You slowly brought your hands together, ready to get arrested.

“Don’t worry, witnesses came forward and shared what happened. They confirmed Caius went too far with the disclosure of a person’s medical condition confidentiality.” One of the officers stated, gently bringing your hands down.

Your eyes snapped to the cops, “Wait, really?”

“Yes, they understood how off-limits your boyfriends are and immediately talked to us after we arrived.” The two cops smiled, seeing the look of relief on your face. “We’ll get going then, Mr. (L/n). You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you.” Sighing in relief, you gave them a look of gratitude as they began getting into their car before your blank face returned.

“You’re fucking one hell of an actor, (Y/n) (L/n).” Mickey remarked after seeing your face fall and glare threateningly at the ambulance as soon as the cops drove off.

“Hey,” Ian softly called to catch your attention, cupping your face. “Look at me. Look at us. Calm down, (Y/n). It’s fine, we’re fine, okay? You don’t have to be mad anymore.”

Mickey watched silently from the side with his arm around Ian’s waist and the other hand gently rubbing your arm to help bring comfort to you. Tense shoulders slowly softening and body relaxing, they witnessed the rage storm calm in your eyes as the hard gaze softened and you respond to their gesture by melting into their touch.

You sighed deeply, “Okay.”

Both of them couldn’t help but notice the empathy slipping back into your eyes and expression, brightening it up, making it seem more alive. Your eyes looked dead earlier when you were beating the life out of Caius until he was barely breathing, it honestly scared and freaked the fuck out of your boyfriends, even though they would probably never admit it. It was like seeing a soulless person because of the lack of empathy and all.

Though, seeing that happen definitely made them reconsider the thought that you grew up perfectly sane without bottled up issues in southside Chicago — They didn’t realize the bottled up issues was simply your kindness and nice atittude, the main things that literally allows you to get whatever you want from anyone because it’s the easiest way to manipulate others into giving you what you want, and they wouldn’t even realize the manipulation.

That’s your own shit to deal with; you force yourself to be nice and caring, so your apathy wouldn’t come up to the surface and destroy things. However, Ian and Mickey somehow knew none of the nice or caring side you showed to them were fake. Because if they were, would you even be in a relationship with them?

It would probably take a lot of time to figure you out, especially when you seem to like hiding behind the nicest person in southside Chicago mask and never let the surface crack to get even a peek inside, but they were willing to try. You’re their boyfriend after all.

“We’ll figure it out, (Y/n).” Mickey gently says. “We always fucking do. Right, Gallagher?” He smirked at Ian, who instantly nodded with an of course, before Mickey grabbed the back of his head and kissed his lips.

You smiled at them, genuinely.

© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Suspect

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Yautja (Platonic)

Word Count: 2979

Summary: After the attack that left you a mess and marred you skin, We'ar-ow has increased her protectiveness of you. She's constantly has you either in her lap for scent marking or somehow less than five feet from her. You no longer sleep in your own room. Just hers.

Author Note: I think we all know who the suspect is. Said suspect will surely pay for the pain they caused. We'ar-ow will make sure of it. Also, side note, I'm hyperfixating on Marble Hornets and Toby Rogers... again so if I'm slow to post, blame them

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

The tension in the air could be cut with a blade. It latched onto every other form that sat at the council table before her. It was a dreaded, cold feeling that leeched away the heat from the room. We’ar-ow easily produced it all with the intense expression on her face. She stood at the end, palms flat on the table. The last of her words leaving her mouth. Her eyes filled with the fire that burned her soul and created her personality.

No one spoke or dared to move a muscle. Their terror of their monarch palpated through the air. All of their eyes were trained on her. We’ar-ow scanned along the room and waited for someone, anyone to speak up. For a single being to have any sort of clue to what happened and why her ooman was attacked.

A huff surpassed her mandibles. We’ar-ow stood straight up and looked down upon her councilmembers. “Does no one have anything to say? At all? Was no one aware that that sector had gone down, including life support? How could this happen? If any of you have an issue with my pet, grow some courage and come after me,” she snarled then slammed a fist down onto the table.

“I said, does no one have anything to say or report?!” We’ar-ow spat at her group, ready to tear into the closest councilmember until someone speaks up.

Out of everyone, Xilomere was the only one lax yet on high alert. There was a reason We’ar-ow was crowned as Monarch for this clan. A tilted earned, not bestowed. He was ready at only a beck to back up We’ar-ow. There must be order in the clan unless it falls to ruin.

Off to the right, a throat is cleared. Dunkot stands up and nods his head at We’ar-ow. “Monarch, as commander of security, I have no reports to speak of. There hasn’t been anything to be alerted of. I will personally look at the footage we have of the area and report to you of my findings immediately,” Dunkot rasped and met her blazing eyes for a fleeting moment.

One of We’ar-ow’s upper mandibles flinched. “Go now. I want a report within the hour.” Dunkot took his leave swiftly and left a trail of fear out the door. Not that anyone noticed as the room reeked of it.

She looked around the table again, but no one dared looked her in the eye. “Anyone else?” More once, complete silence. We’ar-ow stiffy rolled her eyes. “Everyone out! Be useful or I’ll find someone else to do the job.”

Everyone rapidly filed out of the room besides Xilomere. He stayed and leaned back in his chair, feet thrown up onto the table. “We’ar-ow, this is the most intense I’ve seen you. I’ve got to be honest with you: what is truly bothering you?” he asked the Monarch.

We’ar-ow plopped down in the chair and placed her forehead in her palm, elbow resting on the table. “This isn’t the first attack on the ooman. This time, it was planned. It had to be,” she conferred with him and looked at him with what could be considered pleading eyes. “I will not stand by and let my pet get injured because someone had a problem.”

Xilomere twitched his mandibles and nodded. “Alright. And you know I will stand by your side even if this ship implodes. Now, we have to ask the hard questions. Why would someone attack the little thing? No respectful Yautja would even think of such a thing. And why now? No one had a problem the week after the ooman arrived. No one dared attacked.”

The questions made the Monarch think. An idea struck her. “I know who it is: Dwainet. That little snob of mucus!” We’ar-ow stood up abruptly, ready to mow down anyone to get to the thorn in her side.

The male got to his feet as well and put his hands out. “Whoa, whoa there missy. You can’t do a thing him without evidence.”

C’jit. He was right. Her mandibles were wildly fretting and clicked against one another. She slowly turned towards Xilomere. “I will get the evidence and flay him alive. I will have his head mounted on my wall… no, no. Above my pet’s door, daring anyone to hurt them again,” We’ar-ow stated firmly. It had become fact and not even Paya could challenge her words.

“And I’ll ensure the door is locked so the little gnat cannot escape for even a second,” Xilomere proclaimed and stood by his Monarch’s side. Through thick and thin.

A pink hand rested on his shoulder and gave a firm shake. “I thank you, my dearest hunt brother for your words and backup. I could not and would not ask for a different soul in all my years.” Xilomere smiled at her words and bowed his head.

“My monarch, are something different.” A pregnant pause for their words to settle in fell upon them. Xilomere brushed off We’ar-ow’s hand. “Now, you must return to your pet and ensure their safety. I will investigate myself. I will look into every dark corner and turn over every rock to find the evidence we need.”

Through the haze of her rage, We’ar-ow nearly forgotten about her little ooman pet curled up in her bed once more. A second attack in two days was not a coincidence. Neither was the first one. Dwainet had tried to kill you from the marks of your neck, that was evident. It had failed. An accident she was thankful for. Sorrow would fill her veins as she would mourn over your loss.

.

In a state of exhaustion yet wakefulness, you jolted when the door hissed and groaned when the movement pulled at your fresh wounds. Sleep had not found you. It felt like it was keeping a twenty foot pole between the two of you. You wanted nothing more than to simply sleep away the pain, to pass out and forget about the day’s event for just a moment. The world hated you.

The brighter light from the main room filtered into the dimly lit bedroom. It was harsh on your eyes, forcing you to bury your face back into the blankets as a shield.

Seconds ticked by before it suddenly hits you. You scrambled to sit up on your knees and reached for the knife that perched on your hip. It’s spot empty. Your eyes snapped wide open. The realization dawning over you that whoever entered could’ve killed you without even struggling.

Everything returned to the low light situation from before you. A sight you were most thankful for. Through the pain that throbbed behind your eyes, you peered up and sagged in relief.

We’ar-ow stood just shy of the closed door, face neutral. Her bright eyes nearly shined through the creeping darkness and scanned over your form. Whatever she found pleased her, the Yautja moved towards you and sat down on the low bed. Her hand reached out, carrying a weight of timidness, and cupped your cheek.

You didn’t have it in you to speak and felt like if one wrong thing was said could set her off. You didn’t need to know the alien long to see the tension that wormed its way into her muscles. Worse of all, you couldn’t tell if you were relieved to see this seething anger about the fact you had been injured or dreadful. Did she care about you or was this just because this posed a threat to her status? You attempted to bow your head but her hand stopped you.

The two of you stared into the other’s eyes, searching. For what? You mentally shrugged.

Whatever held this trance of We’ar-ow vanished and her hand fell away. “How do you feel?” she questioned and stood up. You followed her with your eyes while she moved towards the bathroom but didn’t turn the light fully on. The same dimness filled the space.

Through the lump gathering in your throat, you swallowed it harshly down. “Hurts. Couldn’t sleep.” You rubbed at your crispy eyes and licked at your dry lips. “I probably have a concussion from how hard I was slammed into the ground,” you rasped in a monotone voice.

A short hum came from the bathroom. We’ar-ow exited the connected room with a glass in one hand and a box in the other. Her lethal form stalked across the room swiftly and sat back down on the edge of the mattress. The glass was offered to you. Which, you took her up on it and sipped away at the clear liquid.

Silence engulfed the room to the point you heard your own heartbeat. A ringing began in your ears. We’ar-ow set down the box at your side and opened it up. Medical items were revealed to you. “Turn around.” Her voice gruff with the order.

In the haze and cotton that still filled your brain, you wiggled your body to have your back to face the alien. Warm, coarse hands touched at your shoulder. You couldn’t help the jerk or the gasp. “Calm, little ooman.” Ashamed, you bowed your head and muttered a short apology to her. You hated this feeling of weakness in front of her. Yet, there was nothing you could do in the moment besides cowering in her room.

The thick, sticky bandage that covered the claw marks on your back was pulled off to reveal a nasty, angry sight. You shuttered at the fresh air touching the damp skin.

“Did… did you find out, out who…?” you trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Her fingertips ran a path down between two of the claw marks. Another shutter raked your sore frame.

“Not yet.” Despite the headache pounding inside of your rattled brain, you picked up on her choice of words. ‘Yet’. She was actively searching for the perpetrator.

In this dark moment of your pathetic life, you needed the light she sparked in your chest. Anything not to wallow in your sorrow and mourn over the day. “Okay,” you whispered, lips barely even opening to let loose the word.

A new silence overcame your voices. Neither of you finding the energy or focus to talk. We’ar-ow worked away though on clearing the fresh wound again and covering it once more. A heavy hand rested on your shoulder after she finished and tugged you towards her.

The Yautja easily turned you around and sat you in her lap, arms mindfully wrapped around your torso. In your vulnerable state, you leaned into her chest. This wasn’t the first nor, you believed, the last time you would sit in her lap. She held you close, like a protective shield against the monsters on this ship hunting you.

“I will protect you, little ooman.” Your heart swelled, needing reassuring words. “You are my pet and no one shall hurt you again.” Then harsh reality crashed down on you. Nothing more but a pet. Your facial expression soured, not that We’ar-ow could see it anyhow. You just stayed, limp against her chest and trying to find sleep in the moment of semi peace.

.

Over what felt like a week, We’ar-ow rarely left her quarters. Not that she was at your every beck and call. But, the Yautja was mindful of what you needed.

Water for every time your glass goes empty. Three meals throughout the day and snacks as well. The wounds on your back cared for every day. Your tablet had been replaced. All the data lost and forcing you to start from scratch. But, from the depths of your mind, you knew the foundations of your plan and the backup ones as well. You had engraved it. You wanted to go back home, leave this wretched place.

Time passed swiftly over that week. She kept you close, never letting you leave her sight. This included bedtime. Instead of letting you sleep in the room she has given you, We’ar-ow has you constantly nestled into her massive mattress and many pelts. Deep down, a thought you wouldn’t admit, you didn’t mind sleeping in the same bed as her. It was a comfort you had missed, feeling touched starved. Dwainet would cuddle with you every night. With him gone, it was hard to recover.

Today was no different. You had woken up to a gentle shake on your shoulder and the face of We’ar-ow. Said Yautja motioned her head towards the open bedroom door. “Food is prepared. Come and eat.” Then, she stood to her full height and exited.

The door stayed open. An open invitation to follow her out. You stretched out with a big yawn but winced when it pulled at the claw marks. A groan sounded from your lips. You pulled yourself out of bed and meandered into the main area of her quarters.

We’ar-ow had made her way into the kitchen and dished herself a plate. It was set down next to your spot at the counter. You continued your way over to the dish and sat down with a huff. All this sleep made you feel tired and ready to simply pass out again. But with the way your stomach snarled and grumbled for food forced you to follow the scent of food.

It took little time to finish off the plate. A quick thanks was sent to the Yautja. You didn’t move though and stayed perched on the stool. The skin of your bottom lip was gnawed on while deep in thought.

Questions whirling around before you grew enough courage to speak up. “We’ar-ow… are there any updates?” Your voice was meek and quiet in already calm room.

During this entire time, she’s not once mentioned the attacks or who was responsible for them. You couldn’t tell if that increased your anxiety or somehow put it to ease knowing she was handling the situation. Yet, if they hadn’t gotten the attacker, meant they were still at large and could… attack again. They could fulfill their mission.

She set down the clean plate on a drying rack and peered at you. “I am dealing with the situation,” she answered shortly. You knew that had to mean she hadn’t found out. Your whole body sagged, nearly curling into itself as if that could be your shield.

Breakfast was over. We’ar-ow moved over to a couch in the main living area of her quarters and pulled out a tablet device like yours. Your eyes darted between her and the familiar entrance to her bedroom. Her bed practically calling your name.

One the last look at the salmon pink Yautja, you paused and admired her lethal form. Not necessarily bulky or lean. A mix of both. Her tresses hung from her strangely shaped head. A cascade of what looked to rubbery dreads that were all a light black with a hint of undertone brown. Two of her tresses were painted a pink similar to color of her skin.

The middle of her torso was colored a creamy white that started from her neck and down the insides of her thighs and touched the arch of her feet. Purple splashes marked her scales in random spots.

A creature born and bred for danger and death. Yet, here you stood, as her pet, alive and soon-to-be well in her care. You caved into the thoughts that sat in the back of your mind.

Within a few steps over to her, you timidly lowered yourself next to her. It was a strange feeling to crave the touch of an alien that surely didn’t want anything to do with you. But you needed it, like a drug to keep your heart beating.

The weeks have come crashing down on your fragile form in a dangerous world. You craved comfort, touch, anything to let you know it was going to be okay. Because after a near death experience that you endured a week ago, you were ready to collapse and bawl your eyes out. Again.

Her heavier weight caused the couch to dip further than your own. When she shifted, it caught you and dragged over to her side and forced you to be pressed into her torso. The Yautja barely even reacted besides another simple shift of her hips. She continued on with the tablet and let you stay. And stay you did.

The warmth engulfed you. A feeling welled up inside of you, making you feel gross. You should be disgusted or terrified even to be this close to her. The fact you’re not furthered that growing feeling. You were used to be touched by her when she held you in her lap and scent marked you every week or so. This was different than that though.

In a floating haze of being awake and asleep at the same time, you feel the Yautja at your side vibrate with a growl and tense up. Irritation grew in your veins at the fact you were forced to be in a more awakened state. You groaned and nuzzled more into her side, delirious in the moment.

The action caused you to slip down into her lap. Mentally, you shrugged it off. You shifted around to lay down properly on her lap, head resting on one of massive thighs. They were muscle as much as of her body was corded with it but they were still comfortable to lay on.

All of the tension in We’ar-ow’s body washed off of her form. She placed a palm on your head and softly scratched her claws mindlessly over your scalp. An action that had you dazed and on the verge of passing out on the second stroke alone. You hummed and became lax, body completely malleable if need be.

The sounds of the room faded out as you embraced the peacefulness.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

Escape to the Eden Club - Sister! reader x Shelby Brothers

Summary; Emily Shelby wants to spend the night away from the confines of Small Heath and decides to head out to the famed Eden Club of London. All was well until a certain trio arrived and reigned havoc.

Author's Note; I took some liberties with the plot/ location of the Eden Club itself. That being said, this is still meant to be aligned closely with the fight scene from season 2. As always, let me know what you think.

Eager to escape into the cool evening air, Emily wrapped her shawl loosely around her shoulders and took stock of her purse. A small roll of bills, lipstick, a dainty opal hairbrush, and a shining Colt Pocket Hammerless Arthur had given her some time ago. With one last glance to the mirror, she smoothed out her dress and went for her bedroom door, shutting it softly behind her. Seeing as Polly would still be at the church for sometime, she decided it would be best to inform her brother on her intentions. Emily approached Thomas’ office and peered in to see the stout man sitting behind his modest desk. She rapped lightly on the door frame and was beckoned inside by just a flick of her brother’s eyes instead of a word. After only taking one step into the room she spoke in the most clear, confident tone she could muster.

“I’m going out with Ada this evening. I’ll be back by midnight.” Hoping the conversation would end there she turned to leave only to be stopped by her brothers words. Still not looking up from the papers spread across the wood before him he cleared his throat and said,

“Going out with Ada, eh? Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?” Emily rolled her eyes, hoping her brother didn’t see, and replied,

“Because I didn’t think there would be any issue.” Emily didn’t like lying, a quality instilled in her by her Aunt Polly since her youth. Though, as a Shelby, it came naturally. Exhausting Emily further, Thomas continued in his questioning. 

“Where about are you two going?” Calmer this time, as to not arouse suspicion, the girl replied, 

“Just to dinner, in Digbeth.” 

“The name of the establishment?” With more attitude, she replied, 

“The Carriage.” The man sat for a moment, only sparing her one more glance as he searched her face for deceit. He apparently found none. 

“Be back by 11.” Emily offered a small smile and made her way out of the home on Watery Lane, calling over her shoulder, 

“I’ll see you at 11:30, Tom.” 

The night was still young and the chance for her to walk the streets of Birmingham alone and untethered was an excitement of a life time. She wouldn’t just be walking the streets of her hometown tonight, though. After meeting her friend Scarlett by the cut they hailed a cab and set out for London. 

The passage was just under 2 hours before they arrived to the Eden Club just outside of the city. After tipping the cabman and exiting out into the brisk night they set for the front doors of the avant-garde establishment. Scarlet giggled with excitement as they approached the doorman who knew better than to question two striking young women trying to enter the club. The main hall filled was filled with the smell of smoke and sex and the band played on to ring in the young night. It wasn’t often that Emily got to leave the holdings of Small Health, let alone the claws of her brothers. After Ada’s departure, Thomas was more worried than ever about loosing his youngest sister. This fear often manifested into the overarching control of Emily’s every move. He felt it was both an act of love and an act of necessity. Emily knew she was deeply loved by her brother and cared for him in the same way. Yet, at the end of the day, if Tom could have his thumb on the pulse of every member of the family, only then could he ensure their safety, or so he believed. 

“Isn’t this amazing!” Scarlett squealed in Emily’s ear. Scarlett was one of the few friends that Thomas approved of. She came from a respectable, working-class family who raised horses and often did work with the Shelby family. 

“I know.” Emily said back, raising her voice to soar over the loud music. The pair approached the bar and beckoned the attendant for a drink. Soon after, two men approached the women introducing themselves as Paul, a tall man with short black hair in a pressed grey suit, and David, a slightly stout man with dusty blonde hair and rosy cheeks who’s slim black suit made him look taller than he was. Paul explained that Emily had caught his eye from the moment she had walked in and it would be a crime to let a woman like herself buy her own drinks. It was only out of the confines of Birmingham that handsome men would approach her, unafraid of people she was related to. She could speak freely and finally feel a sense of control she was never afforded at home. 

“Would you care to dance?” Paul asked the young woman and carefully took her hand in his. They left their drinks at the table where David and Scarlett sat completely enthralled with one another. He led her to the dance floor just as a new song started over at the bands stage. Spinning around the floor Emily couldn’t help but laugh at the happiness she felt in Paul’s arms. He leaned in close to her face and breathed, 

“You are absolutely stunning.” His breath smelled of bourbon and lust. This was Emily’s dream; to be young and free. Finally she was living it. 

She only noticed the violent outburst taking place across the large room once she heard the crashing noise of a wooden table full of glassware hit the ground. The band cut to a halt and gasps filled the audience. Out of instinct, Paul shoved Emily behind him as he assessed the situation. When it became clear that the men dressed in black meant to do harm he ushered his date back to their table to collect their friends and make a run for the door. Through the crowd, Emily peered over the bobbing heads of patrons ducking and running at the chaos she noticed a familiar jacket fly up as one of the unknown assailants struck another man across the face. As he turned to face another man she saw the face of her brother adorned with a busted lip and small drops of another mans blood. 

“Fuck.” She whispered and made a run for her table. Scarlett and her companion had already gathered their things and stood to meet the other couple. The four of them hid behind the large sofa they had once sat on while they waited for a path to clear to the main exit of the building. Emily grabbed her friend by the arm and swung the girl around to meet her scared face. The two men were conversing anxiously at the best plan of escape while the women spoke in hushed words. 

“It my fucking brother!” 

“What?” Scarlett gasped “Are you sure?” The two women peered over the couch to see the men still going at it near the center of the room. This time, Arthur’s face came into view through the madness. 

“Fuck it’s the lot of them. We need to go. Now!” Emily shoved the other girl forward and the men followed suit. A gunshot rang out through the building and they all dropped to the floor covering their heads. Paul grabbed Emily’s shoulders hovered his body over hers to protect her. When the men quit fighting and stood to see where the shot had come from all became quiet. The four took this opportunity to head straight for the exit. Emily only heard the indistinct echo of Tommy’s voice before clearing the doorway. 

Pouring into the street patrons ran every conceivable direction to vacate the path of anymore possible bullets. After reaching the end of the block Paul spoke, out of breath. 

“Is everyone ok?” Each took their turn affirming that they were not hurt, just a bit shaken. Emily turned to her friend communicating with just their eyes that they all needed to get leave before her brothers had a chance to exit the building. “Alright, I need to get you home.” Paul said and took Emily’s shoulder and David followed suit with Scarlett. 

“No!” Emily said too forcefully, “I - We will get home, I promise. You need to get on your way,” she explained gently. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to go anywhere with Paul, that handsome, caring gentleman. He stood firm on his words and said again,

“Emily, really, I need to make sure you get home. I don’t know who the fuck those bastards were.” Scarlett let out a worried laugh at the irony of the situation and still couldn’t take her eyes off the doorway expecting any moment that the men would emerge and see them. Emily took her arm from him though it pained her to do so. 

“Please, Paul, really. You need to get going.” She said urgently. He took a step back and dropped his eyes to the ground, looking hurt. Defeated, he touched David on the shoulder, prompting him to let go of Scarlett’s arm. 

“It was lovely meeting you,” was all he spoke before turning and walking off into the dark alley way. Emily rifled around in her purse and pulled out some small bills shoving them into Scarlett’s hand. 

“Go. Now!” She said before beginning to turn away. 

“What? I’m not leaving you!” Her friend yelled back, grabbing onto her wrist, stopping her movement.

“Scarlett, go! Please. Before they come out.” She pleaded. Even her friend knew that there would be hell to pay if her family found out that she had been running around, getting into trouble with the Shelby girl. With eyes darting between the front door of the Eden Club and Emily’s worried expression Scarlett forced herself to embrace her friend. 

“Please be safe.” Emily nodded in response and they both took off into opposite directions. After quickly crossing in front of the building, the younger Shelby tried her best to hail a cab as many former club goers tried to do the same. Every few seconds she found herself looking over her shoulder praying that she wouldn’t turn to find her brother’s red face looking back at her. After a few failed attempts she saw a empty taxi just across the way parked right next to the entrance of the club. If she hurried, she might just be able to make it before her brothers emerged. With a quick decision she bolted as fast as her heels would carry her across the street and made it just steps the the cab door before she felt the shoulder of a much larger man connect with her own. As she was shoved back onto the hood of the cab she couldn’t help but shout,

“watch where yer’ fucking goin!” Just as any other Shelby would. She watched in anger as that very man climbed into the cab himself and the car began to drive away forcing her to move back onto the side walk. Collecting herself and still cursing the man under her breath she only made it a few steps from her place in front of the club before she heard her name called from behind her. 

It was John. The word pierced her soul like a knife. Without thinking, she swung around to see him standing only about 10 feet behind her as Thomas and Arthur filed out of the door. Without a second to reconsider, she ran. Though slowed down by her shoes and the lingering effects of alcohol, she carried herself briskly down the street. 

“Emily Lenora Shelby!” She heard Arthur roar from behind her. Continuing down the sidewalk shoving between the still clearing crowd she did not stop. Just before she reached the nearest intersection a strong hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around causing her to stumble. She was caught by her oldest brother’s hands of either shoulder lightly shaking her to emphasize each word as they came from his red, blood splattered face. 

“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you bloody mental?” She squinted to shield herself from the yelling as she put her hands to his chest to push him away. He wasn’t planning on letting her go lest she run again until he felt the hand of Tom guide him away from the younger girl. She almost preferred the outright rage of Arthur over the chilling coldness of Thomas, at least with the former, his true intentions were always clear. John soon arrived behind the men and took to consoling Arthur while Thomas pushed the girl to side of the road. Unwilling, she attempted to hold her ground against the man though a stronger grip on her upper arm and a stern look from his piercing eyes encouraged her to comply. She kept her head low has he was still catching his breath from the conflict and subsequent jog to catch his fleeing sister. Finally, in a low, gruff voice, he spoke. 

“In the club, ye?” She nodded her head but still wouldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Instead, she peered past him to see John and Arthur leaned in close to one another talking. Arthur waving his hands around like a lunatic while John tries to calm him down. Out of all her brothers, her and John butted heads the most. Maybe it was the age difference, sitting at just enough years to give them not much in common but enough to argue about. Though, when it was all said and done, she knew John would have her back just as much, if not more, than anyone else. She met his eyes in a quick glance before turning back to Tom’s shoes. Now, the more pragmatic Shelby took in a deep breath to gather his thoughts before continuing the conversation with his sister. 

“Why? Eh?” He said quieter this time. She couldn’t tell if his low voice was an attempt to deescalate the situation or to intimidate her into telling the truth. Well, the truth as it may be, wasn’t that interesting. Emily shrugged and only spared him a small glance up. She went to the Eden club that evening for the same reason as any other girl of her year would; to have fun. 

“You have no business being at those clubs. Getting yourself fucking killed, right?” He said lowering himself to her level, even closer to her face. Her jaw tensed as she thought of a thousand words she could say back to him.

“Everything was fine until you bastards shot up the place.”

“Weren’t you just at the same club, Tom?”

“It’s none of your business what I do.”

Using her better judgment though, she held her tongue. The irony of the situation was not lost on Tommy. He knew that the standard he held for his sister was much different than he held for the men of the family, though he held it steadfast. At the end of the day, he knew Emily was a good girl. Smart, calculated, quick, and usually honest. When the silence hung in the air for too long, he took a gentle hand and guided her face to meet his eyes. 

“Don’t scare me like that again.” He said pointedly with his finger pointed at her face. Emily pursed her lips and gave a curt nod before he pulled her in for a quick but firm hug and placed one kiss on the top of her head. Trying to break away from the clutches are her brother once more she took a step away from Thomas and said, 

“I’ll see you at home,” before attempting to leave in the opposite direction. He let out a sigh once again and wrapped a strong, possessive hand around her arm once more. His lips parted and he eyebrow went up in astonishment, almost as if he was testing her to defy him once again. She looked in his eyes a moment longer, unwavering, before following him back to the other men. Thomas cleared his throat and released the grasp on the girl before speaking, 

“Let’s just go home, shall we.” The four walked in uncomfortable silence back to the car, just over a block away from the fateful scene. As they walked, her oldest brother moved closer to her eventually putting a hand on her upper back and bending down to her level.

“You knows I just want to protect you, right, love?” He offered in a nicer tone than before. Emily knew and nodded a reply. 

“I know.” 

“It’s just you can’t go running around like that.” Before he could get another sentence out, Thomas called out from the front of the group. 

“She knows, brother.”  They eventually made it to the Bentley and it was John that opened the door for his sister to enter the back seat. As she took the less-than-sober step up into the vehicle her brother gently pushed her, just to see how unstable she was.

“Acting like a fuckin’ harlot,” John laughed quietly to chastise the younger girl. Quickly, Emily turned to face him hunched over in the car and raised her purse as if she was going to hit him. 

“Oi, you fuckin’ bastard!” She seethed. Before the two could go at it Thomas darted a look at them in the rear view mirror and raised his voice in a menacing shout. 

“Enough!” Was all it took for the pair to quiet down and sit silently for the rest of the ride home. 

[the-furthest-city-light]

My unhinged thoughts on Luffy and Garp's relationship post-Marineford

Y'all have a very lovely comment on one of my fics to blame for this rant on Luffy and Garp's relationship and where they stand after Marineford:

Luffy and Garp as they relate to each other is so interesting because I think despite his absences, Luffy acquired a lot of his ideas about what family is and isn't from Garp. And, maybe, learned to separate what a person is to him from who that person is, too. In a way I think that's why he imprinted so hard on Shanks--he's the first person Luffy met whose role in his life matches who he is as a person and it's why he builds himself a family by acquiring people whose goals match his own so that there IS no conflict. Fast forward to Luffy as a teenager, we see that when Luffy is confronted by a person who has a conflict with his own ideals and goals, it doesn't present an inherent issue for him--that's the primary way he relates to people anyway (for ex: Coby).

Garp is also the one who modeled for Luffy that presence/time spent doesn't correllate to the strength of a relationship, that just because Garp wasn't there all the time doesn't mean they don't have a bond. And yes this gave Luffy all the abandonment issues but it's clear that Luffy has accepted it by the time canon comes around. At some point he clearly decided to view it as "Gramps gave me what he needed and made sure I had a family to grow up with and that's plenty, of course he loves us," and not "Gramps abandoned me and never loved me."

On top of all of that, whatever else Garp did or did not think about him, Ace, and Sabo, and their dreams, Luffy grew up knowing that Garp valued them and their lives above the letter of the law and his job. Luffy never cared who Ace's dad was, but he grew up knowing that Garp also knew and always thought he deserved to have a chance to live, and always loved Ace even if he never approved of the kids' desire to be a pirate. He knows that Garp values family over the law.

And then there's Garp. Garp who Sengoku describes as "a family man more than a marine." Garp who refused (multiple!) promotions to the Admirality because he didn't want to serve the Celestial Dragons, Garp who Roger trusted with his very own kid. His parenting techniques might be...questionable (read: If this was a real man he would have CPS called on him so fast but we're going with the intended reading of him from the manga) but it's clear he loves the kids. We also know the man has a flexible view of the law, he's a Marine because he believes it's where he can do the most good/help the most people. He views the rules as things he can bend if not break (a quality that clearly gets stronger as the generations pass lmao). He doesn't seem to respect authority, but he DOES seem to respect the need for the perception of it, or at least the role the Marines need to play in the eyes of the public. He believes people need heroes to believe in, and he believes the Marines should fill that role, and that's what he spent his life trying to embody.

And then Marineford.

Garp is caught between these two things: his family, and the institution he devoted his life to. And it sucks, obviously. He goes to visit Ace in Impel Down and he tells him a few things, but Garp says 1) No one can stop the war (not even him), 2) he's proud of Luffy for everything he did at Enies Lobby and Sabaody, (which also tells Ace that he's not condemned in his eyes for being a pirate--the condemnation of his life is coming from the institution Garp works for, not from Garp as a judgement of the man he became).

Ace responds by saying Whitebeard is the only father he has (ouch--Garp is the only father figure Ace grew up with), which is the last exchange we have until this:

Garp believes in the need for the execution and the war in general--the problem for him is that this is his family. This is the baby he took responsibility for, a kid he's loved for years. So Garp doesn't do anything in the war, doesn't object or condem. All he does is take a seat next to Ace, keeps him company. And to be fair to Garp? It doesn't seem like Ace expects anything more. And it seems like he appreciates it.

So he's got one kid on the execution stand, and he's resolved to let him die for the sake of what he thinks is the greater good. And his other kid, the one chasing the same fate that's getting Ace killed now, is trying to save his life. And he just...watches it unfold, because he's trapped by his own convictions--another thing he passed down to both of the boys, so how can he betray what he told them and not hold steady to his own beliefs?

I think for Luffy, he probably didn't have much time to process Garp's presence at Marineford or his role in Ace's execution at the time. In fact the only time they really interract directly is this moment from a chapter literally titled "The Execution Platform":

The title obviously refers to the literal execution platform Ace is on that Luffy has been trying to reach the entire arc but metaphorically? It's also about this. Luffy, being confronted with a grandfather who is for some reason putting his job over his brother's life, and Garp, making a last ditch effort to stand by his own conviction.

There's no way Luffy can understand this decision in the moment--he already made the same one on Amazon Lily, where he was faced with the option to either go and meet his crew on Sabaody (keep following his dream) or go after Ace. He chose Ace, because Luffy always chooses people over his own goals. I think he would understand Garp more if he had been present for Garp and Ace's conversations on the scaffold, but he wasn't.

There's an argument to be made here that Garp is giving Luffy the opportunity to save his brother by stepping in himself and letting Luffy punch him. It would be more plausible except for the fact that Garp calls Luffy "Straw Hat" here instead of "Luffy." He drops the familiarity, and he sets himself in Luffy's way, even when Luffy begs him. I don't think Garp knew he was going to let Luffy knock him away until the very last second. Not until Luffy committed to punching him.

He gives Luffy this one last piece of advice, this one last chance to be his grandfather, where he says "this is the path you have chosen, and it will be difficult, but you're on it now and you have to commit.":

And he remembers Ace saying he wants to live, and lets Luffy hit him to get to his brother.

This is the last we see of their relationship. Luffy doesn't mention him again except to tell Chin Jao off in Dressrosa. Presumably he processed how his relationship with his grandfather has changed in the aftermath, but what he thinks about it? Mostly a mystery. All the things he got from Garp are still true, and I think he still probably manages to compartmentalize most of it as a person vs. dreams/conviction thing. Luffy wouldn't judge Garp for his decisions, and he wouldn't hold resentments either. Whatever he feels or doesn't feel toward Garp, it's definitely overshadowed by Ace's loss.

For Garp's part, the man retired immediately after the war. Luffy literally says "If I don't do everything I can to save Ace, I wouldn't be able to live with myself" a few chapters before the execution stand, and Garp didn't live with himself, at least not without changing his circumstances. He gave up his commission to run escorts for royalty and train people. We do know he's still proud of Luffy, like he told Ace in Impel Down, and he laughs when Luffy's New World exploits are brought up. Garp's the one with regrets, not Luffy, and I think if they ever speak again (who knows, with Garp being...y'know), it'll be about those regrets.

What else do you talk about with estranged family?

[pearlywritings]

A child of our own

synopsis: Your husband absolutely adores his little niece and it gives you hope he is willing to start a family as well. However the lack of communication on the matter is pretty apparent.

IMPORTANT author’s note: this can be read as its own work but actually it is written as a ‘continuation’ to @lunargrapejuice​ ‘s work  An unexpected surprise and I highly recommend to go and read it first to have an understaning of some things happening in my fic.

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader (with Kaeya and his wife in the background)

tw: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, topic of pregnancy and children, wholesome brotherly bond between Diluc and Kaeya

word count: 6.2k words

Family AU masterlist

Becoming Diluc Ragnvindr's wife meant you not only married one of the most amazing men in Mondstadt, if not all Teyvat, but also added his brother's family to your own.

It was never an issue though. Bonding with Mrs Alberich was extremely easy and quick, so now you have a brilliant friend, who is always ready to have your back and team up with you against your husbands should the necessity occur. Kaeya, your husband's brother, welcomed you warmly too, quickly labeling you as his favorite sister-in-law (doesn't matter you are the only one) and jokingly expressing his gratitude for agreeing to bear with the epitome of grumpiness the redhead is (and getting a glare from the redhead in question).

However the most precious member of the family you are always delighted to see is their now five-year old daughter, Callie. The girl with tan skin and silky blue jay hair looks at the world through the eyes resembling her mother's with a smile inherited from her as well.

She is such a sweet dear with a heart bigger than her little body. How else would she be capable of loving her dad, her mom, her favorite toys and that horse Kaeya takes her on rides with, and then come to your residence and happily throw her arms wide to hug Diluc and you, giving you kisses and trying to tell everything you could've missed. Barbatos, she is even incredibly kind to your staff, Adelinde easily becoming her favorite person with her tea party organizing skills.

You are glad you stepped into the family not so long after this girl was born. You've been there to witness Callie doing her first efforts in repeating words. You've been there to hear how Diluc Ragnvindr, the wine tycoon and most respected person in Mondstadt, turned into Wuc-Wuc due to the toddler's inability to pronounce some letters. You've also been there almost every single time your husband shared a smile with her, brought her a gift, carried her around and just was a good uncle to her.

There is only one thing that worries you - Diluc's lack of communication on the topic of starting a family of your own.

It always surprised you that your boyfriend and then husband never brought it up. At first it was understandable - the very start of the relationship, both adjusting to the fact there is now a person to share the most mundane things with and the mutual want to do so, among just the two of you, and kids simply weren't an option. Yet complete nonexistence of the discussion is a bit disturbing.

It all started when Callie asked the stoic man if she had any cousins, to which he obviously answered no. The curiosity of a child wasn't satisfied with that so the next question was about the reason. 'Yeah, brother dear, why?' asked Kaeya when the Dawn Winery owner fell silent. Back then he just threatened to kick him out if he didn't stop, and you thought that maybe he wanted to talk it through with you first before speaking anything out loud.

However, he never approached you with the topic, and soon it made you restless.

It didn't help your anxious state of mind that the little wonder didn't stop at that. She continued asking Diluc about cousins whenever the two met and her father couldn't help but tease.

"Do you hear it? Do you actually hear it? Archons, our girl is on a mission to extend my brother's family it seems…"

That became a joke among you. The 'usually kids ask their parents for siblings, but here she is, pestering her uncle for cousins' one. Once she even ran up to you and tugged on your skirt, looking at you up with big pleading eyes.

"Auntie, Auntie, can you convince Uncle to have a cousin for me? Pleeeeeeease!"

And you'd be happy to do that, you swear. Your husband, though, does not cooperate.

You always tried to choose the best timing: showing your excitement whenever Callie asked for a cousin, attempted to propose the idea only when your workaholic wasn't swarmed in piles of papers, nonchalantly, as if out of the blue asked him about a name he'd love for a child… and all in vain.

With Callie he doesn't seem to notice the hint, attention fully fixed on his niece whom he doesn't see a lot, all your propositions are abandoned the moment you try to speak and name wonderings fall to deaf ears.

One time you nearly embarrassed yourself in front of Adelinde who walked in to bring you two some tea, just when the redhead once again shushed your attempts with a gentle tucking of your lock behind your ear to leave a kiss on your cheek.

You feel confused. He loves you, you feel it with every soft touch he places on your body, even if sometimes it's hard for him to express it with words. This inability to communicate is disarming though. You want to nurse a small baby with soft tufts of red hair and pretty ruby eyes, you want to be called "mommy" and hear your husband being called "daddy" and see an even brighter smile on his face as he welcomes his child in his warm embrace. But you can't even get a specific answer whether he wants a child or not. You are open to discussion, to any option, ready to compromise because you still have enough time for everything. Yet the uncertainty eats you alive.

It's been months since the first time Callie had asked that fateful question, and your confidence in yourself and your future is slowly dissipating.

Even less it becomes whenever you go to the city alone. When you are with Diluc, no one dares to even glance at you the wrong way, but when you are all by yourself hateful comments are whispered or openly thrown your way by jealous young women or the noble elders, who dreamed for their kids to share the happiness of wedlock (and his wallet) with the most desired ex-bachelor of Mondstadt.

The lack of children? Quickly becomes another proving point of you failing this marriage, because if 'everything was really fine, you would've given an heir to Master Diluc years ago'. You try not to dwell on it too much, having a full understanding of where this all is coming from, but the more you hear, the more you start questioning yourself.

This morning was yet another failure and a fruitless attempt to strike a conversation with your husband about the prospect of kids. Your trip to the city the day before and a new portion of belittling comments kept you in a gloomy mood, even the sight of your lover's bed hair and a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth couldn't help. So now you are sitting here, in the backyard of the winery with a table and chairs nicely set under a canopy. Your eyes are staring at the cup of tea, liquid has surely gone cold a long time ago. 

But with movement in your peripheral vision it is hard to ignore the way Diluc is playing with Callie, letting her squeeze and tug at his fingers and occasionally twirl a lock of his soft red hair while she bounces in his lap. Kaeya and his wife simply watch the two with a serene expression on their faces, sharing occasional smiles and chuckling.

You love your little niece, you truly do, but watching the love of your love be so… doting with her (as much as his character allows) is hard. You tried not to let your emotions take over in the morning, but with each passing minute and thought your composure is getting closer and closer to breaking.

"Uncle Diluc, when I'm gonna meet my cousins?" Here she goes again. What started as cute and hilarious now is akin to a hurtful reminder. You know the approximate answer he is going to give her, yet the hope is still flickering in your heart.

You glance at the two, awaiting his answer. You watch the man's lips tug into a small smile, making your very being flutter in delight, and a hand reaches up to softly ruffle her hair.

"Oh, little lily, are you still asking about this?" Little lily. The nickname he picked from Kaeya's 'my lily' and reformed into his own version. It stung your heart to know he was so willing to show an uncharacteristic side of himself to someone else's child yet never consider having one of his own.

"Of course! And you never answer!"

"I do not, do I?" He muses, fingers ruffling dark blue strands. "Well, I think what we have is already enough. Our family, the five of us, is pretty enough."

You hear it rather than feel. Your heart shatters when your husband has his verdict. Current state of things satisfies him, but why can't he just say it to you in an adequate way? It makes tears well in your eyes but your try to calm yourself, smoothing your skirt to keep your hands busy, but lord Barbatos they are shaking.

You fail to notice a star-shaped iris glancing at you frequently from the moment you've settled down to enjoy lunch. It is observing you with worry etched in its gaze when you eventually excuse yourself clumsily and rush to what the Cavalry Captain can only assume a secure place to cry.

He doesn't wait long to excuse himself too, quickly pressing a kiss to his wife's cheek and squeezing her hand, a habit he picked during her pregnancy and never abandoned, and then rushed to look for you. To his relief you didn't make it far, he wouldn't want you wandering into the woods and stumbling upon hilichurls or something worse.

He looks at your trembling back, a bit hunched as you lowered your head into your hands and tried to shrink. He can't have that, not when it's one of the people he let in his heart and allowed to stay.

"Y/n?" Your body moves on your own, turning to the source of the voice faster than you can stop yourself. Through the blurr you notice the signature low ponytail, an eye patch and a soft glow of Cryo vision on the hip. 

Kaeya…

You hastily try to wipe your tears, but a gentle hand wraps around your wrist, carefully drawing it away. Archons, you didn't even hear him getting close to you, he is really impressive. But his presence is grounding, you manage to get a hold of your senses and shakily take deep breaths and exhale.

"Hey, hey, my lovely sister-in-law… What could've possibly brought tears to your eyes?" he carefully tugs on your arm and you get the hint. Brought to the big flat rock you lower yourself with Kaeya following you. He still has a loose grip around your wrist and you are thankful for that, it makes you feel better.

In your current state you want nothing more but to open up to someone. It is a miracle that this someone is one of the closest people both to you and Diluc. You feel safe to trust him with the information and try to collect your thoughts. The man doesn't rush you. Thumb lightly presses on your pulse point with every beat of your heart to help to steady its race. The sun warms your skin, crawling under it and melting some of your worries away. What you are about to tell your brother-in-law is a private matter, but maybe an insight from the third party will finally create a stir in this dead end of a situation.

"Well…" you shakily start, fiddling with the fabric of your skirt. "You know me and Diluc have been married for some years now... And I never rushed him with anything, I know how important his job and other duties are to him, I know…" you stop to take a deep breath, the nerves are getting the better of you, especially with realization of what you are going to say next. Kaeya is silent, but presses his shoulder to yours and you gratefully lean into it, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders and support some of your weight. "But when I watched for awhile how he interacted with your daughter I thought he'd be excited to start our own family. However..." New tears almost make you choke. "However whenever I tried to strike a conversation on the topic, he always turned me down. I... I really don't know what to think, Kaeya… Is it too soon? Have I been too pushy? Have I read the atmosphere wrong and he doesn't want kids? Does he…" you gulp a lump in your throat, tears streaming down your red cheeks again. "Does he not see me as the mother for his children..?"

"What?" Kaeya's eye goes almost comically wide and his hand squeezes on your shoulder. "Nonsense! If Diluc ever wants someone to be the mother of his kids it'll be you. I know my brother, gentlemanliness and a bit of his old-fashioned ways aside he is an extremely blunt man. If he chooses to say something, he does, if he sets his mind onto something, then he is going to stubbornly do it, and if he decides to keep a person in his life, all risks considered, he will. And he decided to not only keep you in his life, but commit himself to you completely. From now on whatever it is, he will always choose you. Always, I promise."

You are trying to wipe your tears the best you can. Kaeya is completely right, you understand what person Diluc Ragnvindr - your husband - is, of course you do. If only you could understand some more.

"I just wish he was more open to discussing it with me when I attempt to. He must know that I'll never hold anything against him, even if he chose to tell me he doesn't want a child, yet, hopefully, but he doesn't even let me start… and the citizens…" you suddenly fall silent. Kaeya tenses, bad feeling stirring in his chest. He just hopes his suddenly manifested suspicions won't prove correct.

"Yes, dear? The citizens..?"

You glance at him, rubbing at your tear-stained cheek and reaching into your pocket to grab a handkerchief.

"Citizens say, that there should be someone b-better, someone who would've already given the Ragnvindr household an heir…" tears start to choke you almost to the point of hiccuping, head hung low and face hidden behind the embroidered tissue. "I feel so pressured and all I want is to just create a family of our own, to see my husband chasing our kid, to see him carrying them around and kissing them goodnight, giving them a cute nickname to go with and so many other things more… But I don't have any answer from Diluc, so I can't even say anything to the nobles, only swallow their critique down."

At this moment, as Kaeya Alberich wraps his arms around your shaking frame and brings your body closer to his chest, he knows that it is the time he holds the conversation with his brother. It is his turn to talk some sense into him and offer him an ear to vent and support to lean on. 

The Cavalry captain knows you are an amazing woman and you deserve the best in your life. So, he makes it his mission to try and make you happy, to see a joyful smile on your face and help you fulfill your dream. Sure he is not going to push Diluc into jumping right into the bed and start making a baby. He simply needs to encourage him to have a conversation with you, the one, where you both will finally bare your hearts and minds and hopefully reach some sort of agreement.

As your crying fit finally comes to an end, Kaeya lovingly pats the top of your head and ushers you to get inside the winery and properly wash your face - your eyes could use some cool water especially. He leads you to the entrance and watches you disappear inside and only then does he make his way back to where he left his wife, his daughter and his brother.

The latter has already passed Callie back to her mother, the two girls now standing a couple of steps away and petting one of the cats that frequent the winery grounds. Kaeya notices how the redhead is turning his head from side to side, a hint of worry on his face. Sorry, dear brother, he thinks, first you'll have to bear with me and only then you'll see your beloved.

"Hey, Master Diluc~ why don't we take a stroll?" He casually and leisurely walks to him. Flaming gaze clashes with an icy one, yet it's barely the same fierce way all those years ago. No, they both gradually softened up and had their moment of reconciliation. Kaeya only hoped, it was enough for Diluc to heed his words.

"A stroll? Maybe later, Kaeya, I am looking for Y/N. Have you seen her?"

"Your wife had to leave to tend to something and she needs some time for that. Why not use this time for brotherly bonding time? Come on, nothing will happen to your precious birdie if you let her out of your sight. You have a manor full of staff."

"I know, I know, she just left so suddenly… I wanted to make sure she is alright," as he speaks, Diluc stands up, putting the chair to its place under the table. "In that case, I guess we can go for a walk. A short one."

"A short one, I promise. Just give me a moment," Kaeya slipped past him, making a way to his little family. Diluc can't hear their conversation, but he can guess its contents. After that stunt of leaving his wife alone right after she confessed to him of her pregnancy, the man couldn't stop beating himself up. He made it his mission to give her a kiss and tell her about any of his departures to not make her worry. The Dawn Winery owner has to admit it is cute and shows how much Kaeya has grown up. Besides, he can relate to it, as he too always walks to you to give you any kind of physical contact be it a kiss or him wrapping his arms around your body in a secure embrace whenever he needs to leave for quite some time.

He is working on his capability of voicing the things that make him fall in love with you all over again, that worry him, that could comfort you… but lately, as children-related thoughts have been plaguing his mind he's gotten a feeling he is failing to do so. Your sullen expression this morning when he kissed the corner of your soft lips to stop you from speaking out loud of the one thing that kept him on edge for the past couple of months is quite an indicator.

He definitely doesn't expect Kaeya to raise the very same topic.

"Hey brother…" he hasn't noticed how they've already left the winery and walked to the lake behind it. Kaeya hums, evaluating the water surface. "I just wanted to ask, you know, about the kids," he bends down and grabs a stone. Contemplating how to throw it better and not getting from Diluc anything but silence, he continues. "No, no, I am not here to force you into it just to satisfy my daughter's wish, I swear. I simply wanna know, do you want to have one someday?" The stone hits the water three times before disappearing under. "And if you do, maybe you need some support and comfort? I will always be glad to provide it. After all, If it wasn't you who talked sense into me that day I... I am not sure where I'd be now."

Diluc is a man of few words, but right now he is out right speechless. Time does fly fast, huh? The least he would've ever expected for Kaeya to sound so dead serious and mature. Yet, here he is, staring at him with sympathy and determination hidden behind his eyes.

"No, I'm... I'm fine, Kaeya," Diluc murmurs, bending down and grabbing a stone as well.

"You are not telling me something, aren't you?" even if he doesn't look at him, the Pyro user can feel the gaze fixed on the back of his head. Kaeya has always been annoyingly perceptive, with nothing slipping from under his radar. "Perhaps it's your wife who doesn't want kids?"

This is not what Diluc anticipated to hear. Whipping his head around and searching his brother's face for a hint of mockery, he finds none. Kaeya knows perfectly well now that you are not the case, but he has to get a reaction out of him and fish the worries out of his mind. And when Diluc shakes his head, he already considers it one step closer to success.

"No, she wants and she even brought up the topic a couple of times, but I…" he falls silent again, but only briefly. There is a hand on his shoulder now, giving it a firm squeeze to send the message through all of that muscle mass and to his heart. Kaeya is here and he is ready to listen. It is another step closer to success when Diluc doesn't shrug the hand off and lets it stay, choosing to continue instead. "I always cut it off and I think I made her sad with that," the admission makes a dull ache in his chest appear. It's as if the flame in a fireplace is dying and suddenly he feels the need to express his worries, something he doesn't do often, especially if it isn't to his wife. "She is absolutely amazing and I know she'd be a wonderful mother to our children, but I don't know if I would be a good father."

An insecurity. A hesitance felt about the future. Self-abasement. And many other things the Cryo user hears in this one message and reads in Diluc allegedly unreadable and closed-off body language. Kaeya is all too familiar with the very things his brother is anxious about right now, he had not just experienced them years ago, but became acquaintanced with the shits on an almost intimately close level. He knows how to deal with it now, and he wants to teach his brother too.

"I think you are going to do an amazing job, Diluc. Look at my daughter, she absolutely adores you."

"I know, but it's not the same. Knowing that she has parents who love her and will always show her all the love they have and thus she'll never feel not loved I can be tranquil, showing her just what I can. But it'd be my own child, Kaeya. It would be me who would have to show them all the love I have for them and I don't know how. I am aware it is hard for me to express my feelings and I pray to Celestia every day for giving me a woman as loving and understanding as my wife is, but the child needs to feel love directly," Diluc Ragnvindr sighs deeply and turns to look Kaeya straight into his eye. "And to receive their love..? Of their love I am not worthy. I am not…"

The redhead expects his brother to agree with that statement - the owner of the Dawn Winery has done way too many unredeemable things to get his revenge after Crepus’s death, even now some of his actions in the name of secret protection of the City of Freedom if known can be considered horrible. To his surprise Kaeya only smiles and smacks his shoulder.

"Oh, shut up, you deserve everything and much more after all the shit that happened in your life. Think of it as Celestia finally having enough of ruining your existence and giving you compensation. Listen, being a parent is hard, I am not going to sugarcoat it. Snowflake and I spent many sleepless nights tending to our girl, we worried ourselves to the point of expecting gray hair to appear, and, personally I am not around as much as I'd really love to with all the work keeping me from my family at times. But! It doesn't mean Callie doesn't feel loved and cherished. Words are good, yes, but the actions speak louder. You are the man of action, you learnt how to express yourself better after getting together with Y/N. Am I not right?"

He is right. With you stepping into Diluc's life and deciding to stay every day is filled with love and comfort. He leaves the cocoon he put himself into all those years ago, and he feels relief from doing so. He feels free.

"What I am trying to say," Kaeya continues, bending down to grab two stones and give one to Diluc, "you two should sit down and have a talk on the matter, especially since it’s obviously worrying both you and her. Voice both of your concerns and work it out. Speaking from experience, a planned or prevented pregnancy is less stressful than an unplanned one. Just imagine how scared your wife would be if she got pregnant and, not knowing what you think about having kids, wouldn't know how to approach you. And would think, in case you agreed to keep the child, that you did it only because she kept asking you. Just please, talk to her, okay?"

The redhead stares at the stone in his gloved hand. Kaeya does speak from experience, knowing that his wife’s unplanned pregnancy was rough at first, hard on her while she kept it a secret not knowing what Kaeya might say or think. Even though it was only for a little while, Diluc can only imagine how badly she hurt when her lover didn't do anything besides run away, leaving her more confused and alone than ever. You shouldn't experience the same thing, and now Diluc is determined to never let it happen.

Two stones hit the water, merrily jumping forward, creating dancing ripples on its surface.

"Thank you," Kaeya glances at his brother again and notes the much calmer look on his face.

"You are welcome, brother dear. It's only natural for close people to help each other. Oh, one more thing before we return. I consider you worthy of having a family and capable of loving."

The Cavalry Captain doesn't fail to notice a small smile gracing the stoic face.

Diluc doesn’t approach you immediately. As much as Kaeya is right, the man needs a little bit of time to collect his thoughts and calm his crazy heart and rushing mind. He needs to be careful, he is aware his previous rejections to talk about kids might’ve made you discouraged and for the conversation to run smoothly it requires him being as emotionally stable as possible.

That night he notices you have been in some kind of distress, but doesn’t comment on it, since your body language obviously shows you are trying to cover it. Diluc just makes sure to hold you close to his body, sharing his natural heat with you and cuddling through the night. A couple of days passes when he finally makes up his mind, wraps his work up way earlier than he usually finishes and asks Adelinde to keep anyone from disturbing him and you until tomorrow.

"My flame, do you have a moment?"

Not long after the dinner was over today, you found yourself in the living room with a book near the fireplace. You were going to use it to pass the evening while your husband would be working on his paperwork before calling it a night and going to bed. What you didn't expect was to see the man appear in the living room a half of an hour later and slowly walk to you with the very question spoken in a soft voice.

You feel a little bit nervous now, sitting in the bedroom side by side with your husband, hips almost touching. Usually the proximity brings your comfort but the rollercoaster of emotions from a couple of days ago is still kind of fresh and the uncertainty of the upcoming conversation is making your insides twist and churn.

The clock on the wall is ticking so loudly in the silence of the big room. With each tick hundreds of thoughts run through your restless mind, but you know you are good - it definitely would’ve been worse if your husband had asked for some serious conversation the very day you burst into tears in front of Kaeya.

Finally Diluc chooses to break the silence and be the first to speak.

"My flame, I have an important thing to discuss. The one I've been putting aside for far too long," in this moment you gulp silently, tensing and not taking your eyes off of him. The man takes notice and tries to offer you a small smile.

“It is about starting our own family, my love. About having a child of our own.”

Maybe it is something about his soft tone or the way he is gazing at you with adoration swirling in his vermillion eyes but suddenly the worry leaves your body. It just jumps off the branch and flies away like a little bird, leaving behind the smallest disturbance in the air its wings created. This manifests in a nervous laugh of yours.

“O-oh, ‘Luc, you scared me here for a moment! Honestly I thought you came here to discuss the divorce, haha.”

When you look at your husband's face, you see the kind of Diluc Ragnvindr even you don't manage to witness much. He is bewildered by your assumption, not seeing it coming at all. To be completely honest he starts panicking. The prospect of ever ending your marriage and going separate ways never crossed his mind, and to hear that he made you simply think it could potentially happen… He is an idiot.

"No, no, no, my love, there is not going to be any divorce," Hot lips feverishly press kisses to your temple. You subconsciously lean in his caress, reaching your hands to his and contently sighing when his fingers eagerly wrap around yours. "Divorce is never an option when it comes to you, my heart. Why would you even think so?"

Even if he has an idea why, he won't let you shut yourself in, he needs you to talk.

"I thought…” you start a little bit hesitant but then realize that you actually feel pretty calm to speak out. “I thought you were annoyed with me for trying to talk about kids," you gently fidget with his fingers. Diluc's heart aches, when he hears you say that - and he is the cause of it.

"I am so sorry, love…" he tugs your restless hands to his and starts pressing a kiss to each knuckle. His lips are warm and with each peck this warmth is seeping through your skin and right to your fluttering heart. "I am a fool," he murmurs against your fingers, still tightly clasped in his. "It was never my intention to hurt you like this. I am," he is not sure how to form his next words correctly. Ruby eyes gaze into yours and see the hint of hope there. 'You two should sit down and have a talk on the matter' Kaeya's words echo in his mind and solidify the need to do so.

"To be honest, I was scared. I just don't know how to handle a child of my own, if I even can do so. I struggle to express my feelings to you, what would it be like if we were to have a baby? What if they hated me? What if they thought I didn't love them and I couldn't prove them overwise? What if I was not there enough? What if I can't protect them- both of you, actually? And I tried to bury it and enjoy what I have now, but it wasn't right of me to turn you down like this and make you feel like I do not care. I do and I am sorry, love. This conversation has been put aside for too long, so… if you are still willing to have it, I am open to it."

A palm cups his cheek and immediately he leans into it. His heart wants to burst out of his chest when he sees the soft look in your eyes. He thought you'd be angry with him, and you have any right to be, he thought you'd scream at him, punch him for being a douchebag, shut him up with this idea because the opportunity was wasted… Yet here you are, leaning forward to kiss him lovingly, thumb rubbing his cheekbone and the man melts. His shoulders slump and hands cupped both sides of your face, holding you so delicately as you share a moment of sweet intimacy.

"I can't say I am not mad at all at you," you start, once separated, but staying close, foreheads touching, "but I am glad you eventually came to talk. Yes, I do want to have this discussion with you, to know what our future holds for us and be prepared to face it with you. Together. So.. share a piece of mind with me?"

You two talk. You talk all evening and way into the night about everything you desire. You slowly and much calmer retell your husband absolutely everything you've told Kaeya and he does the same, holding you impossibly close, and whenever one of you feels nervous or hesitant, share a loving touch to ease up the tension.

You also tell him about the bullying by the noble group of the citizens and for the first time Diluc's jaw clenches in anger. Sensing your insecurity coming back, he hurries to reassure you once again.

"I want to have a child with you. And we will, I promise you, my flame. Stay assured from now on no one will dare to reprimand you for not," he grimaces, "'giving me an heir' sooner. Whoever even phrases it like this? We are having not an heir, but a child… boy, girl, I do not care, as long as this kid is with you."

Your face lights up, hearing these words and finally knowing the thoughts that have been plaguing his mind for so long. His words feel like a lit fireplace when there is a blizzard outside - warm and welcoming, seeping to your very soul to wrap it in a secure blanket. It is the promise of the future you desire to share with the man who's been deprived of familial happiness for so long, whom you love with your whole heart.

"Please, do not rush yourself though," you say in the end, just before you will finally change your clothes to sleep. "We have time. Knowing that you are eager to have a child is really enough for me.”

“But I’ve made you wait for so long… Are you sure you want to wait some more?”

“I am sure. I want to help you ease your worries and experience fatherhood without trouble. For that we’ll have to ease your working hours, which means we need more time for everything. Oh, I know! How about this - I'll help you out with work. I know it will take awhile to clear up your schedule at least for a couple of weeks or maybe even months, but I am sure we can do it! We can use this free time and go on vacation! Relax and maybe then…" a blush rises to your cheeks and the man chuckles, softly pinching one of them.

"I married the smartest, most considerate and loving woman in this whole world. I love your suggestion. And I'll make sure we go on vacation."

"Really!?"

He nods and catches your happily laughing body in his arms, smiling himself. With you by his side he is sure, he'll be able to become a better man to be a good father to your child and the thought now doesn't sound all that scary.

When five months later you announce your pregnancy to the Alberich family, Kaeya knows that his brother and his sister-in-law are going to be fine - by the soft gaze of crimson eyes traveling from your happy face to your stomach and back, by the way you two are holding hands and giving each other a squeeze occasionally and by the general excited atmosphere swirling between you two. He gives Diluc a proud smile and the redhead nods, answering with a small one of his own.

Kaeya's job here is done.

And seems like Callie's going to get herself a cousin in the end.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

To Hell...: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Summary: A man intentionally admits to murdering ten people he didn’t kill all because his sister is missing. The facts take you to a pig farm where a world of horror is waiting for you.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

According to Will's mother, when Lee disappeared, she begged her son to go out looking for her. It wasn't fair to ask that of him since he'd just gotten home from Iraq, he'd just started therapy for losing his leg, and he hadn't even processed what happened to him yet. Still, he did what she asked, found her, and brought her home.

For two weeks, her mother had Lee going to meetings and trying to turn her life around. She even got her daughter into Welfare, but the day after the first check came, she disappeared. The first check came in on the 2nd, the day after she cashed a welfare check. Going along that theory, Spencer found out that the men are abducted around the 1st and the 15th of every month, which is when welfare checks are issued.

What if the unsub isn't intentionally clustering men and women? What if this is how he best isolates them? He must have a way to isolate them based on how they cash their checks, then he spends the rest of the month kidnapping prostitutes. It would explain the pattern he's created.

However, there is no way to find out where they cash their checks because apart from Lee, you don't know their last names. Luckily for you, Derek went back and talked to one of the men he spoke with about where he cashes his checks. Now, it depends on what they want the money for. Everyone either has to spend their checks on food or shelter, and not everyone wants food and shelter.

So, there is a motel called Greyburn Lodge on 3rd Street that allows people to cash their checks and use them for drugs or other things that aren't food or shelter. The motel cashes the check for thirty cents on the dollar provided they don't use their rooms. They walk away with drug money but they're still on the streets.

Turns out Lee cashed her check there, too.

You make your way to the motel on 3rd Street and walk right up to the attendant who looks scared shitless.

"What's going on?"

"FBI. Have you seen any of these men?"

Derek slides the pictures of the men through the small opening in the window.

"Maybe."

"Not maybe. It's a yes or no question."

"Have you been giving them cash in exchange for their welfare checks?"

"They need the cash and I need the business. Nobody gets hurt, folks."

Hotch gets tired of him evading the questions and goes through the back to confront the man in person.

"Garcia traced Lee to this location on the night she disappeared. The others were here, too."

"Have you seen this girl?" Hotch asks and shoves Kelly's picture in his face. Kelly is the only girl who isn't accounted for, and you fear she is the next victim.

"Yeah, she was here fifteen minutes ago."

Hotch turns and uses the printer to fax her picture to the agents back in Canada.

"Did anybody approach her when she left?"

"There was a dealer across the street. He just sits there and then they signal."

You walk away from the booth and toward the street to see if you can see where Kelly is and if she had gotten into a car with someone. Kelly appears before your eyes and walks across the street to a car that looks older and has two tail lights on either side that look like small rectangles. She gets into the car and the car jiggles as if there is a struggle.

Then, the unsub drives away. You have no clue where he's taking her.

If the unsub was here fifteen minutes ago, then he's already on his way through the checkpoint into Canada. Your team heads over there as quickly as possible and meets up with Spencer and Rossi. You think you get there fairly quickly, so if the unsub is going to pass over, you're going to spot him easily.

One hour goes by, then two, and now you're questioning if he's even going to cross the border.

"They should have tried to make the cross at least an hour ago," you sigh.

"Any word from the off-road sites?" Rossi asks.

"I have agents at every known drug smuggling entry. Nothing."

"This unsub's smart. Everything about his plan is well-researched. I think his border crossings would be consistent."

"Are there former shipping lanes somebody could have studied in advance?"

"There's nothing marked," Emily says with the big map on one of the car's hoods.

"Hunters might know the terrain but it's word of mouth. There's nothing documented on any map," Jeff explains.

"What about the underground railroads?" Will asks. "In the Civil War, Detroit was the last stop for a slave before they escaped to freedom in Canada. They made the crossing in this area."

"He's right, but there aren't any historical landmarks that register the crossing points."

"If I remember right, they built a series of Victorian homes along the river to signify safe passage. Some of those homes might still exist."

"The river?" you ask and look at the map again.

"We know your sister's cell phone pinged at a tower near Port Huron. He had to be close by when he crossed the border."

"Wait, guys?" you ask, gaining everyone's attention. "What if he's crossing the border by boat? This place is surrounded by water, and there are no checkpoints in the lake."

Hotch takes out his phone and calls Penelope.

"Garcia, is it possible to cross-reference Civil War maps with Victorian homes that still exist in the Port Huron area?"

"Well, I'm gonna take that question as rhetorical. I've got one. It's three miles south of the Blue Water Bridge."

"Can you send me a GPS map?" She does. "Y/N, you and William are coming with me. The rest of you stay here. We might need to be mobile in a hurry."

You leave with the two men and head over to the location that Penelope sent over. It's right by the river's edge, so it's perfect for someone to exit out of a boat.

"Are you sure this is the spot?" you ask when you get out.

"The house is inland. Access from the water would be here."

"There's nothing here."

"Let's split up. The river's over here."

You go off on your own while still staying close to Will and Hotch. There is a heap of trees bushed together off to the side that is calling your name. You shine your flashlight inside and the light catches the paint of a car.

"I got something!" You push your way through the brush and see a car that has been stashed there. Will helps remove some of the branches and trees to get a better look at it. The license plate has been removed, but you can use the Vin number to see who the car is registered to. "It looks like he might have stashed cars on either side of the river."

"The license plate is missing," Will says.

"Garcia, I need you to run a VIN number for me."

You shine the flashlight onto it and speak loudly for her to hear you.

"379-November-2-Papa-44."

"Did you get that?"

"Yes, the vehicle belongs to Mason Turner. At age thirty-nine, he went to undergrad in Toronto, graduated second in his class from Michigan Medical Institute, and in 2000, he worked for a public health organization in Detroit."

"Do you have an address?"

Mason's house isn't far from where the car is stashed, so Hotch calls everyone to come out here as quickly as possible. Only until everyone is here, do you gather and listen for instruction. As soon as you step out of the car, you're hit with this wave of death. It knocks you back a couple of feet into Derek, and he catches you so you don't fall.

"What's going on?"

"So much death is here," you whisper.

"I think we have the right place."

"Alright, you four take the exterior," Hotch says Jeff, Rossi, Derek, and Emily. "We'll take the house."

"I've fought on other people's turf before. You don't walk into this situation unarmed," Will says.

"I can't give you a gun, William."

"I've got ten years of active duty."

"Will, the man we find might have killed your sister."

"I need answers. If I shoot him, I get nothing."

"I'm sorry. Stay close. What we find might not be easy."

"I just need to know," Will sighs.

Your half of the team walks closer to the house, and the wave of death is even stronger. You gasp and grab Spencer's arm to steady yourself.

"What is it?" Hotch asks.

"There is so much death. So many victims. I can feel them all," you whisper fearfully.

Hotch takes the lead and enters the house with his gun drawn. There is heavy breathing coming from one of the bedrooms, and you walk inside carefully. However, this isn't something you thought you'd see.

There is a man lying on his bed with a tracheostomy hooked up to a ventilator that is breathing for him. He has mirrors set up all around his room so he can see since he can't get out of bed.

"Sir, are you alright?"

"Who the hell are you? Get the hell out of my house!"

"Are you Mason Turner?" you ask.

"That's not your business."

"He's our unsub?" Spencer asks in disbelief.

The only plausible way that Mason is the unsub is if he has a partner. If he does, then where the hell is he? More importantly, why do you feel so much death here?

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[oddballwriter]

Dwelling in the Night, Part Two: Neck and Neck

Series Masterlist

Pt. 1 - Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Summary: The MoonKnight system continues to have run-ins with the shadowy figure that they've come to nickname The Silhouette, lurking and dealing with crime in the same area that they do. There's more communication between the two vigilantes but still no answered questions. Simply just a mutual respect for each other despite the different methods they use. A the same time, Steven tells more about their new neighbor Y/N, and even shows them a few things. However, it seems like the more Steven gets to know them, the stranger they seem. And Jake seems to be picking up on a few things in both cases.  

Warnings: The reader (Y/N) is a vampire and their source of sustenance is criminals. The action of said method and thus killing is never written or depicted, only implied. Reader lying to the boys. Mention of Harrow. The boys kind of, technically, break into the reader's apartment if you squint. It's not depicted but the reader is in the coffin that was mentioned in the original writing, aka part one, so possibly a claustrophobia warning. The reader, in their lying, claims to be on a liquid diet and also lies saying that it's doctor ordered, so if you have any medical traumas involving diets then a warning for that. 

Author’s Snip: No one asked for a part two to the original, I just came up with the idea of adding to it. I'm aware that I still have the Unexpected Addition mini-series and have yet to work further on part three of that but I just wanted to self-indulge considering my love for vampire content and more so my desire to see more vampire content where it is the reader who is the vampire of the story. So yeah. I would gladly make more with this idea but if you all would be so kind as to put your ideas in my inbox once I open up requests again, which MAY be soon. No promises though.

Notes: When I was proofreading this I found that some parts of the story were copied into other places which was so fucking weird. I felt like I was going insane. I think I fixed it and got rid of the extra, but if anything loops, that's why.

Anyways this intro is really long, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2300~

  There was a rhythm to the Silhouette, as the boys have named them,’s work when they looked at everything more deeply. They once a month and go for more dangerous criminals like muggers and potential assailants. They also usually stick to a particular block that has an issue with a higher crime rate. At least they used to stick to one specific block until they found another body, with the signature bitten throat, sitting hidden next to a garbage dumpster in an alleyway. 

  Marc and the rest of the system groaned together when the signs of the Silhouette started coming up. They figured that they would stay and deal with the crooks on their block while Moonknight did the rest of the city. But it seems that they weren’t free of crossing paths with this ‘fellow vigilante’ anytime soon. 

  And low and behold, here they are now in an alleyway with Moonknight, Marc, standing on the brick ground and Silhouette standing in the cover of the shadows that the lights couldn’t pierce through. The only difference this time around is that there’s no victim or dead, or just scared shitless, criminal that the other bumped into. 

  “Why the hell are you here?” Marc questioned, holding a stance that was both meant to be imposing and signaling that he was over these types of meetings. “I’m picking off perps. Same as you.” the Silhouette explains. “I thought you had your block? Why’d you move over here?” Marc demanded quickly after the figure spoke. “The criminals have dried up. There’s hardly anyone who lurks around there now, so I have to move spots.” the Silhouette explains matter-of-factually. “Gee, I wonder why,” Marc mutters under his breath before speaking to them again. “What’s your deal anyway, huh? ‘You some type of type of righteous maniac? You seem to have a theme with taking all these bastards’ blood.” Marc questions again. 

  “I need the blood. I take blood from dangerous criminals to make the means of getting it slightly more ethical.” the Silhouette claims as they stare back at Marc with their faint glowing eyes, “Do some good with the dirty.” they phrase. 

  Marc sits with that for a moment, not sure how to feel about what they just said. It feels familiar to Harrow’s ideals, but at the same time, this person isn’t making a cult and planning on making a ‘perfect and pure’ world. Instead, they’re just picking off some unpleasant bits that cruise around the streets at night. But it’s not exactly the same as their Moonknight work either. Marc, Steven, and Jake have a job of protecting those who wander and roam under the moon. This person sounds more like that of a mutual symbiotic relationship. Like how a bird can get something out of picking the ticks off of an animal's back, you, apparently, get something out of taking the blood from the crooks that dwell on a block. 

  “Can I ask what you do with all that blood?” Marc’s morbid curiosity makes him ask. “Can I ask how you got into your role as a hero of the night and moon?” the Silhouette asks back, the tone of their voice indicating that they were echoing him. “I don’t have to tell you anything. It’s none of your concern.” Marc replies. “Then it’s the same answer for you from me.” they quip back. “That’s not really on the same level…” Steven comments from the back of Marc’s mind, to which Marc just repeats back to the Silhouette. “I’m not doing anything bad with it. I can assure you that.” the Silhouette responds. 

  ”So should we just ask them the obvious question, or…?” Jake budded in from the reflection of a puddle. “No. We are not. That’s a stupid question.” Marc says glancing at his alter with a volume that was meant to go unheard, but judging by the confused movements of the Silhouette’s eyes, they still heard it. “Don’t pay attention to that,” he tells the figure.

  “Is this the part where I disappear into the darkness of this alley? Or would you like to chat more?” the Silhouette asks with a tone has Marc imagining the cheeky smirk on their face. “Depends. Have you gotten your criminal killing done?” he remarks. “I almost got one but I think they saw me for a second and decided to leave instead of do anything.” the shadowy figure mentions, “And you seem to be calling dibs at the moment. So I think I’ll do my work some other time.” they claim.

  “It was nice talking to you.” the Silhouette says before stepping back into the deeper shadows and disappearing into what was thin air yet again.

🩸🩸🩸

"Oh bugger," Steven muttered under his breath, drawing the rest of the system's attention. "What's the matter?" Marc asked. "I completely forgot that they sleep during the day and I've went and opened their door." Steven explains, referring to none other than you. "I just wanted to return the book that they gave me. I should have waited." he scolds himself.

"Well, might as well go in anyways in case you did wake them up," Marc says, "It's probably for the best since I don't see a key in your hand, so that means they had the door unlocked." he points out in addition.

Steven huffed and took a deep breath before opening the door again and stepping in. But as he looked around for what he was expecting to be you sleeping in your bed, he found no one and nothing around. Steven lets go of his breath, glad that he didn't actually disturb you like he thought he did.

"Well, this is kind of worse. Their door is unlocked and they aren't even home. Good thing it's just us." Marc comments.

"Is that a fucking coffin in their living room?" Jake asks.

Steven looks over to see the same coffin you showed him when he helped you drag in your bed frame set a while back. "Oh, yeah. It's part of their aesthetic decor. Isn't it interesting? " Steven said. "They use it like a coffee table." the Brit explains as he walks closer to the hunk of wood.

"It's a coffee-in table. If you will." Steven jokes, making the rest groan at the pun.

"It's genuine though. They said they got it from a funeral place that was selling old ones that they still had in their inventory." Steven mentions as he crouches down so Marc and Jake can get a closer look. "See. Real wood and everything." he adds as he knocks on the scratched polished wood.

"Freaky." Marc comments, both admiring and slightly weirded out by the choice of furniture. "What do they have inside?" Jake asks. "It's empty." Steven answers, "But I'm sure they could store loads of things in there." he assures.

Steven gets back up and places the book he borrowed from you on top of the coffin before he walks towards a desk and writes on a sticky note writing "Thank you for the book! But you should really be careful and lock your door when you leave. I accidentally opened it when trying to give this back. -Steven" and placing it on top of the coffin too.

"Open some curtains before you leave, Steven. It's so dark in here." Marc comments, but Steven refuses, "No. I've already gone touching enough of their stuff without them even being here.".

"I've even let myself in without asking or having a key." he adds.

🩸🩸🩸

Jake wasn't typically the brains or the planner of any of the tasks the system gets up to. He's usually the backup for when things get too much for Marc and Steven. But that doesn't mean he's an idiot, quite the opposite actually, he's often the one who notices patterns and themes that the other two don't pick up on. They call him paranoid when he points it out or thinks he's being an asshole and making snarky jokes.

But when Jake senses something, he investigates it, thoroughly.

Jake might not be able to control the front as well as Marc can, but when he's there, he can stay via focusing on something, and the others can co-front. Which makes way for Steven to see Jake at their desk looking through things like newspaper clippings and what seem to be notes.

The clippings had the same topic judging by their headlines. New Hero or New Threat?, The Killer of Killers, Brutal Killings Scare off Crime, Questionable Hero in the Shadows, Nighttime Duo?, Silhouette Follows Crime to New Hunting Grounds.

"You're looking into our acquaintance?" Steven questions. "I just want to understand what exactly their deal is," Jake answers. "We heard them and Marc's conversation. They don't want to disclose that even if it's strange and disturbing." Steven reminds, but Jake shifts in his chair unsatisfied with that answer.

"I think I already know what they do with it anyway." Jake claims. "Jake, mate. Don't tell me you're starting to think what I think you're thinking." Steven remarks. "What do you think I'm thinking?" Jake inquires. "You know what I think you're imagining." Steven exudes, "You're thinking that they're some type of vampire or something silly like that.".

Jake looks for any surface that might reflect this fellow alter on it, landing on the reflection from the glass pencil holder. "Do you not believe in vampires?" Jake asks as if Steven should. Steven rolls his eyes at such a dumb-sounding question. "Of course not? How the bloody hell do you?" Steven exclaims.

"Steven, mí amigo. We're the alters of a guy who's died and came back from the dead two separate times, which he can see in his reflections. And we work for a god of the moon and have fought a former worker of his who could kill using magic." Jake lists off all while looking directly at the Brit in his appearance in said reflection so that he can prove his point. "And you don't think that there is a chance that maybe, just maybe, other forms of the paranormal also exist?" Jake comes back around.

Steven looked back at Jake, realizing how dumb his stance on not thinking vampires exist is now. "Okay. So maybe they are." Steven says, "But why are you so concerned about it? It seems like they're just feeding themself." he asks.

"I just feel a bit off about the fact that it seems like their work in killing criminals is only backed by the fact that they can use it to get their food," Jake answers. "What happens when the crime pool dries up completely? Who will they bite the throats of next?" Jake inquired, making a new point. "Just want to make sure we know who we're dealing with then." Jake concludes.

The sudden knock on the door causes the two of them to jump a bit. "Who the hell could that be?" Jake grumbles. "Are you expecting anybody?" Jake asks but Steven shakes his head. Jake gets up once a second knock comes, heading towards that door. "Who is it?" Jake calls.

Your voice answers from the other side.

"Oh shit." Jake whispers before switching out with Steven.

Steven unlatches and unlocks the door to show you standing just beyond the door frame. "Hello." he greets, "What brings you over here?".

"They needed to check my smoke detectors with the fire alarm check." you explain, "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you or if you're busy. I just have nowhere else to really go while they check them out and I don't want to be in the same room as they do all that." you explain further.

"Oh," Steven chimes, "No problem. I don't mind you spending some time here." he smiles. "Come on in." Steven says as he walks away from the frame to let you in.

He walks deeper into his flat as you come inside. "Would you like something? A snack? Some tea, even though it's too early for that." he offers. "No. I'm fine." you say as you look around and get a good look as you slowly stride on the same path into his flat. "It might be a bit of a mess. I wasn't expecting anyone to come over today." Steven apologizes as he puts away Jake's notes and newspaper clippings into a drawer.

"It's no proble-" you speak, but stop mid-sentence and make a face. "What's the matter?" Steven worries. "Nothing. It's just..." you say as you stand in his living room, "Did you eat some garlic earlier." you ask.

"I did. I had some garlic bread last night with my dinner. Is it still around?" Steven answers as he opens up a window near the kitchen to make the remaining air get out. "It is." you confirm, "Sorry. I just have a sensitive sense of smell and garlic is just a really strong smell so it makes me pause when I smell it." you explain. "It's okay," Steven remarks, "In all honesty, I don't care for the smell much either." he adds.

"I'm making something nice for dinner tonight. You're welcome to join me, I'm able to make enough for two." Steven offers again. "No. It's fine. I have a strict diet." you say. "Oh, if you're vegan it's perfectly fine. So am I." Steven tries to say but you cut him off. "No. Like..." you stammer, "I'm on a liquid diet. Doctor's orders." you explain.

"Oh. I'm so sorry. I had no idea." Steven apologized. "I hope it's nothing serious." he concerns.

"Judging by how pale they are, it looks like they need to eat some meat." Jake mutters.

"Come to look at them, they look like they match the decor of their place a bit too well." he thinks, but Steven, again, brushes him off.

[valexformula1]

Hello, I find it so cool that you want to write on here as well :)) maybe you could write some good old enemies to lovers with Charles? xx

Misunderstands -CL16

Request: yes

Summary: Charles having a secret crush on her teammate but messing every interaction with her, and her hating his attitude around her. Part 2 soon!!

Pairing: charles leclerc x teammate!reader

Word Count: 804

Warnings: cursing, enemies to lovers, mention of pushing of track

Author’s Note: part 2 soon! Short but sweet It's my first one shot, I think with the time I will be better, English is not my first language so if you find something let me know, also if you have recommendations.

Being a woman in the motorsport world wasn’t easy but being a female in motorsport with a very resonant last name was shitty.

Being the daughter of Artyon Senna was not always cool, the media was around you most of the time asking questions, stupid questions, comparing your track skills with your father’s and creating gossips about you sleeping with half the grid. 

It was a lot, for that reason you always tried to have healthy relationships with everyone on the team, not wanting problems or scandals, but there was an issue and that issue has a name, your teammate at Ferrari Charles Leclerc hated you, you couldn’t know why but for the very first second you got a step at Ferrari, charles gave you the cold shoulder.

2020

“And that’s the end of the tour at Ferrari, have any questions?” said the Ferrari PR finishing the 2 hours of tour for the installations of Ferrari.

“No, thanks for the tour” 

“Okay so see you around” she waves and start to walk away

You turn around wanting to explore more and see the cars when suddenly you fell to the floor and a hot coffee is spilled all over your breast.

“Fuck” you said

“Shit, wacht it” says the man in front of you, when you get up and look at the man you realize it was Charles, your now teammate.

“Weird first meeting but hi I’m y/n I’m going to be your teammate” you say trying to ignore his first comment not wanting to have some uncomfortable situation.

“Yeah hi,” he said looking at you with a face you can’t read and with that he was gone

You didn’t want to get mad with this situation, maybe he was having a stressful day and wasn’t at his best. 

But you were wrong because it started to happen more often, him being cold with you in interviews, meetings, conferences, and parties. Not wanting you for anything.

You couldn’t take it anymore, you couldn’t trying being nice to him anymore, so you decided to be cold with him too.

June 2021

“Can you just shut up for a fucking second” he says

“Hang on babe” you told to your boyfriend that was at the phone “No, fuck you” you replied to Charles who was sitting on the couch. 

You were on Zandvoort for the Dutch GP and like every Thursdays, you have to film for the YouTube channel of Ferrari, but Charles’s PR was late so both of you got to stay at the Ferrari Hospitality waiting for her.

“Okay, see you, bye love you” you finish telling your boyfriend

“He sounds like an asshole” he says after seeing you finish your phone call

“You are the one who is an asshole”

“And you the one who sucks”

September 2021

“You fucking asshole push me out of the track” you replied.

At the race you were p3 until Charles came and push you out of the track, the FIA only gave him 3 seconds penalty because they said it was an accident but you and him knew it wasn’t

“Oh I’m sorry your majesty, but it’s called racing, and sometimes you have to put persons apart”

“Well, it existed also something called respect for others, and I assumed you don’t have it dickhead, fuck you”

“I’m flattered, but you're not my type”

“And you think you are mine”

“Aah, I can’t stand you anymore”

October 2021

“Hey, I found you” you said, sitting next to him

You were looking for him for an hour, this race week has not been the best at Ferrari and Charles had the most fuck up race with the team mistakenly telling him to enter to the pits when it was supposed to be for you and with that losing the p1.

“I can’t believe it” he says trying not to cry

“I know it sucks”

“I’m never going to be a world champion” 

“Hey, you are an amazing driver and this was just one bad race, you’ll be fine” your words were out before you could have time to think about it, but you mean it not because charles’s PR sent you to talk to him but because that’s what you thought. He was a good driver and fuck, did all of that just came from you.

“Thanks Senna” he said surprised by your comment recently

“Your Welcome Leclerc”

“This doesn’t mean I will be nice to you at the track”

“Fine, continue to act like you hate me.”

“I do hate you” he turned his head to finally meet your eyes, and you noticed for the first time that his eyes were green but a green that you've never seen in your life, probably the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen and… Okay, what was happening to you today.

[marvelstars]

Another interesting thing about Vader´s and Palpatine´s relationship is that unlike Count Dooku and Palpatine, were both truly were in it for the power and both made plans to destroy the other early on, there is almost a kind of camaraderie between the emperor and vader you don´t see with Dooku or Maul. The Emperor trusts Vader to have his back because he knows Vader´s loyalty even now is without question, that was always part of his character. Vader is above all loyal to the people he loves and the ideals he holds in great esteem and he loves the Emperor and is loyal to the Empire.

The Emperor does seem to enjoy having Vader around to talk to even if it´s one of his manipulation plots, at this point in his life he is the only one who still sees him as a person, not an authority figure or as a monster and Vader has grown too weary and tired to see where his master is faking it and where he is being honest so he doesn´t try to interpret it one way or the other but still feels a strong protective steak towards the Palpatine, despite the fact Vader was also getting ready to defeat the him with Luke´s help if that was what it took to keep Luke safe.

But then in ROTJ Vader seems almost ready to give up his post(life really) if that serves to keep Luke alive, because without Luke´s help, he no longer was strong enough to defeat the Emperor but also this protective steak for Palpatine is still there, he just feels the same for Luke now and that´s such a big conflict to him.

The Empire as an institution is such an important part of Vader´s plans and pov that connect with his wish to "bring order to the galaxy" which also connects with the " the biggest problem in the galaxy is that no one helps each other" that he was no going to betray the Empire just because Luke asked.

Vader believes the Empire can be fixed and the Emperor removed because he is no longer looking for the best interest of the Empire but he wasn´t going to betray it until it came to a choice between Luke´s life and the Emperor´s life, he made his choice knowing it would not fix what was but it would give a new beggining for something else to be born from there.

On this I believe Vader didnt thought much of the Jedi Order anymore, I believe he respected them as rivals, in fact he often gets angry on their behalf in novels and comics if he sees someone who is not a Jedi collecting or holding lightsabers, he kept his respect for them as an institution and as individuals, this is why I don´t prescribe to the idea in the fandom that he hated them, he didn´t he was dissapointed because he believed they lost their way, he has regrets for his part in their destruction but he regrets the younglings over everybody else, more than anything else.

So when we meet Vader in the OT he just has so many other things to worry about that they just escape his thoughts, they only matter to him in relation to Luke because Luke is important on his own, Luke is his Son and he loves him. He started letting go of the darkside the moment he found about the child he thought he killed with his mother, a child who was still alive, there was nothing he could do to change that darkside or not.

PD: If Vader lived post ROTJ it would have been interesting to see him in conflict with Luke, Leia and Han over what to do with the Empire, honestly a conflict of epic proportions because unlike them Vader could tell them all the issues the republic had as an institution that he hoped to correct with the Empire even if he agreed with them on the Empire´s(and his own) excesses.

A reedemed Vader would not join the rebellion automatically for the mere fact that the rebellion wanted to bring back the republic as it was and Vader knows very well the issues that began the fall of the republic even before Palpatine.

[lamarseillasie]

Marat et Le Junius Français

I know it's been a while since I've done a post like this one, but that doesn't mean I've lost interest in writing about little-known anecdotes and adventures of Marat! One of them is the brief and chaotic existence of Le Junius Français, one of Marat's lesser-known newspapers, which he created and published during the month of June 1790.

The probable reason why hardly anyone knows that Junius Français existed (the only Marat historian I've ever seen mention it was Olivier Coquard in his Jean-Paul Marat, une lumière en Révolution : biographie d'un homme des Lumières devenu l'Ami du peuple) is that it only had 13 issues in total. Its publication was somewhat turbulent, lasting only three weeks, for obvious reasons. But it is still, in all its context, a very interesting and surprising periodical.

The creation of the short-lived newspaper comes at a complicated and somewhat hectic time for Marat, who had just returned from London in May and was keen to resume publication of L'Ami du Peuple and join the patriotic press. As usual, Marat had to remain underground, as he continued to be the target of legal proceedings and arrest warrants and the publication of L'Ami du Peuple was, unsurprisingly, banned by the authorities. In addition, there was also a constant fight against forgers - the fake Marat, plagiarists who published newspapers and pamphlets under his name, which may also confirm the influence and popularity he had gained at the time. These forgeries of L'Ami du Peuple began to appear in large numbers from 1790 onwards, and Marat made an effort to defend himself against them as soon as he returned to Paris. Not only him, but the Revolution in general was going through a turbulent situation. There had been conflicts involving bakers and grain, the question of war and federations, as well as other external crises that concerned France.

It was against this backdrop of accusations against conspirators, clandestinity and arrest warrants that Marat created Le Junius Français, a second newspaper, which was published for the first time on June 2, 1790. During its publication, Le Junius Français coexisted with L'Ami du Peuple, and both periodicals were published (almost) every day until the end of the first, in its 13th issue, on June 24.

On the structural aspects of the newspaper, Professor Coquard, already cited above as the main basis of this post, comments in Marat, L'Ami du Peuple [p.243]:

This second newspaper presents itself exactly like L'Ami du Peuple: an eight-page in-oitavo printed on poor quality paper that comes out of the workshops of "Guilhemat et Arnulphe, printers of Liberty, at 23 rue Serpent" and is distributed - door to door only - "every morning at number three rue Contrescarpe-Dauphine". Junius seems to focus more specifically on articles of denunciation, while L'Ami du Peuple is probably looking for more general political analysis. However, the two sheets are quite similar.

The name chosen by Marat for the newspaper, "Le Junius Français", also intrigued me. I found in this note apparently (?) written by G. Eljorf through Le gazetier révolutionnaire, a catalog of periodicals of the time, an explanation that seemed to me quite plausible and accurate about the title:

Lucius Junius Brutus and Marcus Junius Brutus are two figures from Roman history engaged in the struggle against tyranny, that of Tarquin and that of Caesar respectively. The pseudonym Junius had been used by an anonymous English pamphleteer around 1770 in a series of letters critical of the government of George III (Junius Letters).

We can speculate on various reasons why Marat might have created the newspaper in such a complex period. Perhaps it was one of his skillful political strategies to amplify his attacks on his enemies at a time of difficulty, but it could also have been the start of a newspaper that Marat actually planned to maintain, so that he could give L'Ami du Peuple another direction. The intentions and objectives of Junius Français, at least, are clearly explained on page 8 of the first issue:

This journal is particularly intended to follow the deaf maneuvers of the revolution's enemies, to reveal their relations with foreign cabinets, to vent the plots of traitors to the Fatherland, to serve as a cry of alarm, to disconcert their dark schemes.

The history of its sessions will be followed by reflections adapted to the subject, portraits of the authors of the most important motions, of the ministers and of the most remarkable figures in the history of the revolution. Finally, it will report on new events likely to pique public curiosity.

In fact, at least in the first issue - which I analyzed more meticulously than the others - he does what he says. He first scolds the Parisians, in the same fraternal and unmistakable style as L'Ami du Peuple, and then recounts the May 31 session of the National Assembly, where a case of conflict between the grenadiers of the Royal Navy regiment was discussed in which a group of patriots had been brutally mistreated. He speaks briefly about the decisions concerning the civil organization of the clergy and denounces the Dutch. He constantly maintains the spirit of denunciation, calling on the people to take revenge. Although his name only appears in 4th issue, it's not hard to spot Marat's pen in every word.

Marat unfortunately didn't manage to keep publishing Junius Français for long. Certainly, the newspaper ceased publication at the end of June for a number of reasons, and among them there is no doubt that Marat must have been overwhelmed with writing and managing the printing and correspondence for two revolutionary periodicals at once. Expenses, lack of time and problems involving the printers of both Junius and L'Ami du Peuple must have contributed to the sudden demise of this newspaper.

I found it interesting to bring up Junius Français because, as well as being one of Marat's most unknown and neglected works, it is also one of his writings that impresses me the most, since he managed to keep both newspapers going at the same time in a chaotic context in which he had to hide from the police, manage the publication of other of his works, solve plagiarism problems and at the same time pay attention to the political situation in France, which was becoming increasingly tense. His commitment, his incessant dedication to producing even in the most difficult and theoretically impossible times is always fascinating, to say the least, and Junius Français is an example of how Marat's revolutionary activity was frenetic and tireless even underground and under threat from the government. His attempt to maintain the two newspapers, despite failing, went beyond Marat's own limits and was, in a way, a good propaganda tool against his political enemies.

[myheartisoutatsea]

Speaking ill of the Dead

Okay, let’s have this conversation. The tragedy on the Titan Sub is an incredibly complicated topic, less so because of the actual technical issues of the submarine but for the actions of the company and crew. Perhaps by calling it a tragedy I have already made my opinion somewhat clear, but let me lament about the topic a bit further. 

Clearly the company did not take well enough actions prior to the dive of the submarine. It has had no peer review, not certification, and every attempt to express concern on the Submarines integrity was ignored in favor of a quicker time tune over and a profit. This is an inherent problem in the Adventure industry, where something that is meant to be undertaken slowly, carefully, and by well prepared experts is done by people who want an adrenaline rush and an experience. This leads to a lot of tragedy in the Industry. 

Secondly, the crew aboard has made some questionable designs in their life. I believe one report I saw claimed the co-founder of OceanGate and pilot of the Submarine was previously a private jet owner and flyer and thus according the account responsible for heavy air pollution and in passion of already great wealth. I believe they (the author of the account) found this to be abhorrent, and anybody who respects this earth would react to pollution, and found him to be  a terrible human being. 

There is also the issue of whether or not the site of tragedy should be a tourist destination, and also the waver the crew signed when entering the vessel. The waver clearly stated it was an experimental vessel and an uncertified one at that. 

Now none of these are what I have an issue with, seeing as I honestly think many mistake were made, that’s what makes it a tragedy and not a horror. What I have issue with it going around saying they deserved death, as though we should let people make their beds and lie in them, as though we should look death in the face and call it humane and right, as though I am supposed to speak ill of dead men for their money. 

So I’m going to go into these issues, from the point of view of a Sailors child. My parent is a sailor, and a Submariner at that. We’ve had extensive talks about the issues here, and I’d like to poke a few holes, a patch a few others, and make some conversation while I’m at it. 

I would like to ask you dear readers, what in the world do you actually know about Submarines? Had you read that waver, would you honestly believe there would better options? Would you know about the three to five organizations that certify Submarines or would you assume uncertified meant non-military? Would you not assume this new and amazing technologically was of course experimental? For what else could innovation in adventure be? 

There has been some outrage about the fact that the submarine was piloted by a game controller, well guess what, Navy Submarines have them too. Until very recently most Periscopes on Submarines were made to function through a highly calibrated set of mirrors. Quite literally mirrors. The submarine scene from the Fast and Furious 8 movie made me so mad, because there is not enough technology in an older submarine for Cipher to hack if she tried. Now, the most recent submarines use digital cameras in their periscopes. Want to know how they maneuver that? With an Xbox game controller. One of the Sailors pointed out that the technology for game control, meant to be intuitive to the user, could be very useful on the submarine and thus the engineers made it happen. Do not pretend the wireless, intuitive controller is not amazing technology because it helps you play video games. 

Another thing about Submarines, did you know that worldwide, during peace time, many nations have a specific system set up with each other to do search and rescue for submarines? Look up the disappearance of the ARA San Juan, an Argentina sub that also imploded and was only located with national help. The Hulk wasn’t too far off when he talked about being in a pressurized can being a bad idea. Submarines are some of the most deadly machines we have, in their military use and how much danger there is to operate them. As such, the international community reacts to them according. The US Navy specifically has a policy of being able to launch search and recovery equipment to the needed location or at least en route to within 24 hours of notification. This includes sonar and deep sea ROVs. Based on previous precedence set by Submarine emergencies, the international community is more likely to respond to Submarine disasters quicker, they have less time. 

So Yes, the tragedy of the refugee ship of Greece is a politically fueled tragedy and loss of life, but it is not the same as the Titan. The Titan didn’t get more attention because it has billionaires on board, it got more attention because it was a Submarine. Submarines have the benefit of being a recent dilemma for the world theaters, so they have more modern solutions while Refugees and Sailing ships have had centuries of existence to be wrangled into political machinations that make it complicated to rescue too retrieve. 

What is more likely to be a problem is the retrieval or lack there of the bodies, as those bodies are usually mounted over, but bodies lost at sea rarely get returned. The Navy has always held that the ocean is a fit and final resting place for those lost at sea, and while due respect is paid to their loss, retrieving the bodies and wreckage is harrowing and expensive. If you truly want to rage against those with a lot of a money, start asking who’s going to be paying for the retrieval operation and all that time spent searching. I would argue it should be OceanGate, for their negligence in the integrity of their Submarine lead to a loss of life. 

I will also honestly say this, I hate to speak ill of the dead even when it must be done. Yes, some of these people lost did terrible things, but they did not only do evil in their life and their story should not just be “They did this but they also did this!” it should be instead “They did this and this.” Was the french diver not also one of the only certified people to take wreckage from the Titanic to surface for study, posterity, and for museums? Was the British explorer not also a history enthusiast who was excited to see a piece of history he studied so fondly? Was the Son not also a student? Perhaps the pilot did pollute the earth, you’d be hard pressed to find someone who hadn’t, his crime is perhaps instead doing nothing to fix pollution. 

I believe a lot of us apply Spiderman's “With Great Power comes Great Responsibility” to those with Wealth, and while not wrong we get too disappointed when they fail to meet our standards. They are not obligated to help the world, as much as we need them to be. We want them to be better people, but they won’t always be. It is not wealth that made them bad, but their actions or lack thereof with it that did. 

The Navy hosts something called the Submarine ball, to celebrate the creation of the Submarine force. And every Submarine ball, they will list the submarines sunk and the life lost on them. I have gone too many times, heard that speech and list too many times to call the death by horrific pressure and cold and drowning something somebody has to have had deserved. 

Look up the specifics of implosion, of death, of how your blood boils if you rise to fast, of the cold seeping in so fast you feel like ice, to the lack of hair, and tell me you wish that on people. Tell me you have enough in you to wish somebody to die by the sea, lost and scared, and tell me how that makes you a righteous and good person. By all means rage an injustice, rage at the unfair, but do not turn that into a right to murder, to kill, and wish death on others. 

[nothorses]

There are some problems with how Riordan writes Piper, the only member of the cast to be Native American, with the most egregious bit being the frequency of which she puts feathers in her hair. It's not the worst racism in children's fiction by far, but it's still disappointing compared to the usual caliber of his writing of diverse characters.

I hear that. It's been a hot minute since I've read the HoO books- I think I read them pretty much as they came out, and I haven't picked them up since- but this sparked my curiosity, so I did some poking around.

Riordan wrote a post about this in 2020 (now deleted). It seems like he mostly aimed to answer the questions, "why did you write her to have feathers in her hair?", and, "why don't you update that now that you know better?", and the post is not an apology (though he does acknowledge that he could have done better, would do differently now, and that the portrayal is definitely outdated).

This post from an indigenous blogger critiques his response, and is worth checking out, with the nuance that the author seems to be responding only to his blog post and surrounding twitter drama (unclear if they read the books themselves).

This post goes more into depth on some other issues with Riordan's portrayals of people of color, including Piper, but the author is not indigenous.

It sounds to me like he thought he was doing due diligence and fell short because of ignorance, and the real issue is that he didn't do a better job of owning up to the mistakes when confronted with them- and when he took the opportunity to actually speak on them- after the fact.

I will say that it doesn't feel to me like he's looking for excuses; it feels more like he's explaining that the attempt was flawed but not thoughtless, that he doesn't feel he fully understands the flaws, and that he's not sure if this is something that can be "corrected" with some simple changes in wording in newer editions. I think some of the posts I'm seeing interpret things a little more harshly, but like, I'm white, I'm not personally impacted the same way the folks writing these posts are, and that privilege is part of the initial problem.

Not to defend Riordan either! And to be fair, the context of this ask is that a teen I work with had clearly misremembered or misunderstood who the dude is when talking about his "extremely bad political beliefs" and I was baffled that they seemed to think he was, like, openly racist and did not want people of color in the PJO show.

I just want to take this ask as an opportunity to elevate this part of the conversation & invite some critical reflections on a series I love and an author I respect.

[ragingbookdragon]

Shadow & Light

Simon "Ghost" Riley X M!Reader

Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Hi, I saw someone in a search somewhere say there wasn't enough Ghost x M!Readers so I will remedy it <3 -Thorne

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

Ghost couldn’t really call him a kid. Hell, he was only a few years younger than Soap was. But he was the newbie on the 141 and hadn’t seen a day of fighting in his life. Wet around the ears with nothing commendable in his file but a college degree and a few years working at a police department where Ghost suspected he was the janitor and not an officer. Ghost had no clue in hell why Price even got him selected for the team. He wasn’t even special forces of any kind. Just a seemingly plain human being. Cowardly too, he’d concluded. Ghost had watched Soap do training exercises with him just to see how decent he was, and the entire time they were in the ring, the newbie evaded every hit and never once struck out. The newbie couldn’t even fucking fire a gun correctly without shaking. Ghost and Soap had ultimately decided if there was ever a chance that would bring the newbie to battle with them, they’d die if their lives were in his hands.

How wrong he’d been.

It had only taken a week of running the newbie ragged before Ghost took the issue to Price; the Captain didn’t even look up when he barged into his office and, “The kid’s gotta go.”

“Why’s that?” Price asked, lifting the coffee cup to his lips, acting as if he had no idea why Ghost was pissed.

“He’s shit at fighting. He’s a liability. We’re fucked if he’s ever on the mission with us.”

He nodded in agreement. “True statements. He has no self-defense skills besides basic training and is potentially a liability.”

“Then why? If the 141 is made up of the best of the best, why is some fresh newbie here with us?”

Price looked at him. “Have you even sat down and talked to him? And I mean talk, not as Ghost, but as Simon. One human to another?”

“No.”

“Might I suggest trying that route?”

“He’s useless, Price.”

“To you. But you haven’t seen his abilities yet.”

“Like what?” Ghost scoffed. “Being a complete moronic coward?”

Price grinned and waved him off. “You’re dismissed Lieutenant.”

Ghost wanted to argue but his Captain’s voice booked no room for arguments, and he grunted, turning on his heel and slamming the door behind him.

***

Ghost avoided the newbie like a plague. Let Soap and Gaz deal with him whenever he had questions or training. He was going to stand his ground on the issue, and he knew Price was going to agree and let the newbie go at some point, but for some god forsaken reason the kid stuck around despite it all.

He watched though. And he had to admit, what he lacked in ability and skill, he made up for in personality. Everyone liked him. He smiled and laughed and joked and brought a brightness to the team that Ghost hadn’t seen in quite some time. The 141 was men and women whose friendships were forged in battle and yet this kid, this useless newbie, brought out a light in their darkness. Ghost didn’t trust him, but he did respect him for it. He'd managed to get himself stuck on weapons cleaning with him though.

***

“Thanks for volunteering to help me clean equipment, Lieutenant,” the newbie said, dragging an oiled rag over the gun. “It would’ve taken me forever to clean all this by myself.”

Ghost’s hands had frozen on the knife he’d been sharpening, eyes narrowing as he connected the dots of the sudden shift in rotation of cleaning duty. Price. He thought and glared at the blade as he continued to sharpen.

“Sir, can I ask you a few questions? Nothing personal, of course, just…some things I’ve been wondering.”

Ghost grunted.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He racked the pistol a few times with a practiced ease, something that caught Ghost’s attention as he put the gun back together and disassembled the next with expert hands. “You don’t talk much. Not super friendly either. Then again, I understand the necessity of arm’s length in a job like this.” He started oiling the rag. “Why don’t you talk?”

Ghost saw his reflection in the silver of the knife. “If there’s nothing to say, why speak?”

“Hmm…you speak when you need to, quiet all else.” He continued wiping the gun down. “You remind me of my father. A man of many deeds, but few words.”

Ghost had watched him rack the gun again and put it together before starting on the third and that’s when he decided to ask, “How do you know how to clean weapons?”

The newbie looked up, eyes wide. “Huh?”

“You can’t shoot for shit, yet you can take apart and put together a gun in less than a minute.” Ghost carefully adjusted the knife in his grip, the motion not going unnoticed by either, especially when the newbie’s eyes flickered down and back up. “One chance,” was all he warned.

“Well done, Simon,” he chuckled, setting the gun down before reclining in his chair, hands behind his head as he leaned back. “It’s only taken you two months to figure out.”

Ghost watched him, eyes narrowed carefully.

“Name’s Renegade, at least that’s what the CIA calls me when they need me.” He seemed extremely nonchalant about admitting he was a spy. “Laswell’s my aunt. Adopted aunt of course, but still family. When I was looking for a transfer, she offered the 141 as a new station.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” he replied. “I’m counterterrorism, Simon. I hide away in secret places, slowly picking at regimes for information until I can stand back and watch them crumble internally. This little group seems like the perfect place to hide and run around with.”

“You’re a rat.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. But I’m a well-paid rat who sleeps at night knowing he does what he’s supposed to.”

“How many innocents has your intelligence killed?” Ghost questioned and Renegade gave him a look.

“Probably as many as your hands have.” He waved a hand. “I’m not here to be liked Simon, and believe me, it’s obvious you don’t like me. You act like a constipated teenager the way you ignore me. Almost as if you like me.” Standing, he didn’t even flinch as Ghost did too. “But I am here as a counterintelligence officer under Laswell and Price, so you’ll just have to deal with it.” Ghost stood in his way of the door, and he simply tilted his head in exasperation. “Really? You’re gonna threaten me?”

“Oh no,” Ghost warned. “I don’t make threats.” He raised the knife, pointing it to Renegade’s throat. “I’m watching you.”

Renegade stepped closer until the knife dug into his skin and he flirted, “Oh, Simon, you can do more than watch. My door’s always open.” Winking, he bypassed Ghost and walked out of the door and Ghost threw the knife after him, planting it in the wall. “Missed me~”

***

The door slamming open startled both and Ghost griped, “You did not tell me he was fucking CIA.” His eyes found Laswell’s and he pointed at her. “He’s your fucking nephew, isn’t he?”

“What’s he done now?” Laswell sighed.

Ghost scoffed, throwing his hands in the air as he looked at the two of them. “You brought more CIA into the 141? Are you out of your fucking minds? He cannot be trusted.”

“Why’s that?” Price asked.

“Because there isn’t anything stopping the CIA from going rogue and doing fuck knows what because they feel like it. What if an offer of enemy secrets comes up in exchange for one of us? You really think he wouldn’t take it?” he glared at Price. “Really?”

Laswell sat up. “Renegade’s not a traitor, Lieutenant.”

“Right, as if the CIA isn’t a giant fucking organization built on traitors.”

By this time, Renegade had wandered up behind him. “No, Simon’s got a point. The CIA is notorious for having traitors in their ranks.” The three jumped as Renegade stepped inside and handed Laswell a file. “I don’t think your Lieutenant likes me much, Captain Price.”

“No shit,” he retorted and looked at the two of them, one glowering, the other a flirtatious smirk on his face. “Both of you, get out. Go sort this out somewhere I’m not. Simon, he’s here to stay. Renegade, if you lie to us or turn, I’ll pull your heart out your ass myself.”

“Duly noted,” Renegade commended.

“But Cap—”

“Go.”

***

Ghost stomped down the hallway with Renegade on his heels, and he could fucking feel the smirk on the spy’s face as he strode. “You really don’t like CIA, do you, Simon?”

He spun, backing Renegade up a wall as he growled, “Do not call me Simon.”

“Everyone else knows your name, Simon. It’s no secret.”

“My friends, know my name. You don’t know me.”

“I know everything about you,” he replied with a secretive smile. “I could probably tell you more about yourself than you even know.”

“You’re barking up the wrong fucking tree,” Ghost warned, slate eyes narrowed in coldness.

“Oh, I don’t bark,” Renegade countered. “Barking is for dogs who want attention. I bite. Much like you do.” He tipped his head to the side. “You’re like Batman, Ghost. Thriving off the fear of your prey. If they’re terrified of the shadows, you have the upper hand, but I am your Hal Jordan, Simon Riley. I am the man without fear, and I am not scared of you.”

Ghost glared at him, then the anger left his eyes, replaced by a stony indifference as he stood up straight; without a second glance, he left Renegade leaning against the wall, the spy’s words replaying in his head over and over and over again.

Oh ho, how wrong he’d been.

[astudyincontrasts]

Hi I don’t have any questions but I just wanted to write to you and say that I love your portrayal of viktor because he’s not just a helpless weak meow meow he’s very assertive and sexyyyy and and oh boy I just love it!! You’re amazing <3333

Hey!! Thanks so much, I’m glad you appreciate my portrayal of Viktor. I could never see him as helpless or even weak. Viktor may have a disability that limits his movement and an illness that’s slowly killing him, but he’s never, ever shown as some meek, milquetoast, fragile thing.

From the first moment we meet him he’s sassing Jayce without restraint, issuing orders to FUCKING GRAYSON of all people, and from there he pitches headlong into potentially self destructive rebelliousness. We’re led to believe he dragged himself out of the undercity on his own and landed his position in the university based on pure chutzpah and perhaps a bit of devious lying.

He has zero fear of authority figures. The first time he meets Mel, arguably the most clever and powerful person in Piltover, this mf’er straight up tries to pull a fast one on her. Lame, sure, but hilarious (‘oh this isn’t my room’ uh huh ok babe nice shot). But he never even breaks a sweat. Please note Jayce meanwhile in the background shitting an entire flock of chickens:

The next time you see the pair of them in a room together he can barely keep his eyes from rolling out of his head at her obvious manipulation of Jayce AND THEN reads her the absolute riot act when it becomes clear she’s pushing for HexTech weapons. I mean if looks could kill:

He’s constantly pushing the boundaries of their work further than Jayce seems to be, and honestly if he had a healthier fear or respect for the danger of the arcane they are messing with he might not be on the path he’s on now. Yet, he’s so determined and singleminded and stubbornly strong that he’s ready to use his own body as a guinea pig for genuinely terrifying experimentation.

Tbh it feels like Viktor’s only two fears are public speaking (which, based ok) and his own impending mortality. This man may look like he’s made from glass and come across with the social finesse of an autistic tree sloth but he’s got a core of steel and a savvy read on situations that you forget at your peril.

You can say what you like about his attempted assimilation into Piltover society, it’s obvious at every turn that this man was forged in the fires of the undercity.

Also the artists at fortiche gifted this man a dong that could knock you out if he turned around fast enough the boy deserves to get to use it ok. I’m glad you like him nonny cause I’m gonna keep doin our boy justice thanks for coming to my TED talk

[mischiefmanaged71]

Tom Bennett x royal!reader headcanons

Request: Reader who's really in love with him to the point of questioning if she's good for him & has ties to English aristocracy. 

A/N: Not connected to my other series. Based on a request!

Tom met her as another individual seeking a way out of France. He didn't know of her identity or status until much later in the trip, only that Y/N sought out a safe route home as he did.

He initially thought she was another French woman until he heard her English accent. Although it was central to London. This would've made him spit something about Manchester and his detest for posh Londoners, if not for the woman's beauty and attitude. She held herself high and had this tenacity - a bite to her words that spoke largely of her personality.

From thereonward, the two grew closer on their shared English background, sticking together for the most part until they arrived at the border. This became apparent when they had to identify themselves and her relations to a certain Windsor House became apparent.

Tom wasn't abhorred or angry to be exact, he was more disappointed that she lied about her identity. Although, it became apparent to him much later on the boat ride back that she was merely doing what she had to do to survive.

After that followed an apology and then they were really off onto another path. She found themselves fawning over different parts. The shine of his hair in the sunlight. The glint of mischief in his eyes when he wore that smirk. He was no different in finding everything about her enthralling. She was the picture of grace and poise, as well as a sarcastic side to test him.

Their relationship is filled with sarcastic retorts and lots of banter!! Tom has found his match. Even in the most stressful situations, she finds a way to bring him back to the moment. They kept each other from falling to their nerves and the fear lingering over their heads. Lingering touches and glances turned to hand holding. Making sure the other is okay and offering comfort in tough moments.

He was a spitfire with ample fuel. Hatred towards the war, authority, and a load of abandonment issues and disappointing others. Tom hid these feelings of helplessness to his nature beneath the facade of confidence, his snark and flirtatious antics making up for the insecurities buried beneath the surface.

She...she was his equal, in a sense. From the first moment, she had returned his snark with equal vigour, and put Tom in his place without prompt. She was graceful, resourceful and quick thinking. The woman was respectful and kind, caring and the right amount of sarcasm to meet Tom's outrageous and loud personality.

No matter his tendency to get into trouble and start fights without prompt. She was quick in learning his tells and desire toward mayhem, taming him from the get go. Y/N made sure of that, pulling him away from the men he had pushed too far; tucking herself into his side while walking along a dark street with shift figures around; bringing his head back to earth when he drifted too far into the dark depths of his mind.

Their first kiss and realisation was a fixed close proximity where Y/N found herself staring into those oh-so blue eyes. She held her breath and lost herself in the moment where he pressed his lips to hers, and her head was spinning. One hand was on her waist, and the other grasping her jaw. To be kissed like this-

From there onward, it was a blissful relationship between the two. The rush of being close to another, the warmth of a shared bed; the comfort of a close body. Reassurance that everything would be okay even in the darkest of times.

The real problem began when she found herself questioning herself. She fell in love so deeply and quickly, Y/N questioned if she was good for Tom. They, of course, came from different upbringings and experiences. It was one of the differences between them that they managed to bridge a gap. And yet...she found herself overthinking about all of the happiness someone else could bring him.

Someone who could see him at any time of day, anywhere they wanted. A person who wasn't followed by security details and people watching their every move. Someone who didn't have most of their life planned out for them since the day they were born. A person without guilt in holding their love back from declaring their relationship. She pined for that type of relationship without paying the price of privacy. To love him in every way possible would be what he deserved. That is what she saw in him.

One day, Tom found her mulling over these thoughts alone, holding the papers with pictures of her and supposed bachelors. They talked it out and she confessed her thoughts. He would be much happier with someone who could completely be with him. In their relationship, they were reclused to closed doors - just the two of them. It was a matter of secret meetings and brief encounters. How could they truly be happy? How could he be happy?

Tom dismissed each of these with his logic immediately. He didn't care for extravagance or showing off their relationship. He loves her and the relationship they have. Having it in private or public, no matter - all he cares about is her and having her in any way he can. He tells her how eternally grateful he is to be know her; to love her; to eventually wed her.

Right about then was when she flushed and the overactive thoughts dimmed at the half lidded glance her way. The stare that enveloped all of the love and adoration she held for him. The knowing look that meant he understood exactly how she felt and desired nothing more than her.

TAGS

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[meili-sheep]

So this is from our good friend 🐱 anon! And while this isn't like specifically harem, I'll probably cover the Harem and extras. And we'll start with Nation so

Mondstadt!

So Albedo. Would instantly start asking diluc questions and start performing tests. For Hexenzirkel Mom Diluc, Albedo probably tries to see if there is something from Diluc's mother at play. Probably test Klee's strength as well, just to be safe. He probably starts looking for a connection between pyro energy and physical prowess as well. So he would have a rather mundane reaction and just go into him being well Albedo.

Now for Eula. She's probably heard about former Captain crazy strength but most likely dismissed it, thinking it was just an exaggeration. Then he flips a fucking Ruin Grader. She probably has just a moment. I mean, I can't blame her, though. I'd need one too. Specially because right after, he'd go into sweetheart mode and start asking if she's ok. And generally acting very sweet and kind despite the fact HE JUST FLIPPED A FUCKING RUIN GRADER. Of course, after such an embarrassment like this, she will need a little revenge and make sure Diluc knows who's top dog.

Now main ships outta the way, let's talk about Venti. Because you can't tell me that either Ragnvindr or the Red-Haired warrior could do the same thing. And it's something Venti rather casually forgot. In general, he forgets that Diluc is his equivalent to Zhongli's General Alatus, like if Xiao was more chaotic and had an issue with authority. And Flipping a Ruin Grader would be a very good reminder for Venti.

Moving on, I also want to briefly mention Rosaria and Kaeya. Mostly because Rosaria knows Diluc has a lot of surprises, but she was not expecting that. And Kaeya. He's been dealing with this bull since they were kids, so just them at the bar, and Rosaria is just still stunned.

"He flipped. A whole. Ruin Grader..."

"Really? Glad he's still in condition then."

"Huh? What do you."

"I once saw him hug a boar when we were kids... He hugged it so hard he broke the poor thing's ribs. And would not stop crying about it."

Liyue

Starting with Zhongli. He'd probably have the most normal reaction out of everyone, and that's probably because. Zhongli sees himself as a normal human, or he wants to. So weird like that he is very used to playing it off as normal human things. He really does applaud Diluc's form, though. Probably makes some suggestions.

Now to Xiao. This would really be a heartthrob moment for Xiao, tbh. And he's gonna deny it like his life depends on it. Like NO It definitely wasn't hot that his human boyfriend flipped a whole ruin grader over his shoulder! Definitely not! And he still probably frets over Diluc after words and makes sure he didn't get injured.

So Yelan is getting put here because I see her and Ningguang and friends of Diluc. I particularly see them as members of the underground network. And Diluc doesn't report to either. He respects them a lot. They both would be incredibly impressed, but here is the thing with these two. They see Diluc as their "cute" junior. So despite having taken down a Ruin grader with his bare hands, he now gets cooed at by these two women telling him how proud they are. It's embarrassing but he can't do anything but take it.

Now on to the others. And here is my favorite underrated dynamic, Diluc and Yanfei. She is his lawyer, and no one can tell me otherwise. They are both the more serious of the Pyros and the only ones who can control the chaos. But ummm. Yanfei forgets Diluc is also chaotic. And after seeing him flip a Ruin Grader, She probably starts working on a damage claim argument centering around Diluc being unable to control his ridiculous strength. She did end up using it. and it did keep Diluc out of jail.

Inazuma

Thoma, much like Kaeya, grew up with Diluc's bull. So he isn't really surprised when he sees Diluc flips a ruin grader but probably offers him a snack or something afterward, making sure he's ok and didn't strain himself or anything.

Now I'm putting Ayato and Ayaka together. Because, well, I imagine that Ayaka is constantly dealing with a love-struck brother. And this would be another case. And this would be a case where Ayato would start in on how of course, Diluc is the strongest because Ayato only like the best of the best and has the most incredible tastes, and Diluc is simply the greatest. And Ayaka is in shock that a human can even do that, and everything her brother is saying is just going in one here and out the other. As she just sits there stunned and makes a mental note to make sure no one upsets Master Diluc.

So Itto is a hype man. And this would send him into overdrive. While his whole gang is just stunned, they just have to go along with what Itto it telling them because, well. That guy just took down a ruin grader barehanded. Like yeah, Itto can do that. But he's an oni... but Diluc... Diluc's just supposed to be a regular guy.

But after the shock wears off. They totally join Itto in the hype team and praise Diluc to the sun and back. He is very embarrassed about it all and well.

Sumeru

Al Haitham. You can't tell me it doesn't work out like he does it mostly to stay healthy. But he's probably stronger than people give him credit for. But seeing Diluc do that...

That's a whole different level. He probably pulls a little bit of an Albedo and goes into investigative mode. But, um, a little more creepy and just watches Diluc in his daily routine. Probably ends up coming to the conclusion that Diluc... mostly likely has some supernatural ancestry that he's managed to inherit and levels it there.

Kaveh. He'd nearly have a heart attack. Like he would deal with it in phases.

Stunned silence.

horny

realization of horny

a bit of shame about the horny a bit of embarrassment about the horny

acceptance of the horny

simp

So as the newest Bully Memeber, I gotta put Tighnari here. And let me say he would go mildly Albedo but then start probably going feeding Diluc weird plants and testing them with Diluc's strength. And they would become a chaotic NIGHTMARE.

Now Dehya is another Big Sis I give to Diluc. And I can not tell you how proud she would be. I mean, she would instantly suplex him to assert dominance, but that's ok She's still proud.