#if my wife didn’t care about me looking into my health concerns I would absolutely go back to ignoring the problems and hoping they go away

[cipher-the-sidhe]

HAHAHAHAHAH!!!

I’m so fucking done with the medical industry! I’m not sure if this is truly infuriating or just… hilarious! Considering the joke hinges on my medical wellbeing, probably the former 🙃

[lumiereandcogsworth]

heyyyyyyy hey wait I forgot I follow up on this, you mentioned there was tea regarding Adam’s dad and his first wife 👁️ is that something you’re willing to share bc I am all ears

ahhhh yes yes yes. my LORE!!!!!!! i am absolutely happy to spill that tea. i did indeed mention here that adam is the product of his father’s second wife, not his first. so let me divulge all the stuff that went down before adam came around!!

so, first, some backstory on louis, adam’s father. he was his father, king antoine’s, firstborn. four years later, he has a brother named adrien. adrien dies of illness around age five, and young louis is devastated, but his father is tough and hard and tells his son to buck up! crying is for the ladies. a few years later, louis’s mother, anne michelle, also dies. louis doesn’t cope well with this at all, but he’s so scared of his abusive father that he hides his feelings once again. soon, king antoine remarries. he and his new wife have a daughter, and they name her genevieve after her mother. they entirely dote on genevieve, completely neglecting louis, leaving him to his own devices. he becomes miserable and cruel, and an entirely reckless young man.

when prince louis is 24, king antoine has a health scare that causes him concern. he fears he may not live much longer, and he sees that his son is in no place to take the throne, should he die. so, he arranges for his reckless son to marry an upstanding young lady, to ensure that louis could become king at the moment of antoine’s passing. louis is less than thrilled about his bride, but when they meet on their wedding day, there is actually a spark between them. her name is agnès claudine marie. she was chosen because their marriage would be politically advantageous, as well as look very perfect to the public eye. louis was all ready to loathe this new wife of his. but he just… didn’t.

agnès was firey and stood her ground. she challenged him constantly and louis was pretty shocked by it. (but also… turned on by it as well.) louis was still a very shitty person, like, agnès did Not make him a better man. but they sort of got along in their own twisted way. they appeared a perfect, prim and proper couple to the public eye, but behind closed doors they were very just… toxic and messy. and what made matters worse was that king antoine died shortly after they were married, so louis had to grapple with his father’s death (sprouting the classic, complicated grief that comes along with losing an abusive father), and handle being king, all while never being mentally or emotionally prepared for it, nor having anyone to lean on in the process. it’s ROUGH.

louis had such a quick temper and was insanely jealous. he got pissed at agnès for even so much as talking to another man at a party, even if he was right there by her side. after the parties would end, he’d throw things and break things and scream at her and she’d scream right back, bullying him just as much as he berated her. these arguments almost always ended in ridiculously hot sex. which is funny and i don’t know why i feel the need to mention it but. as a fake historian it’s my duty to share all fake facts. anyway.

eventually, louis and agnès had a daughter. they named her claudine. louis doesn’t feel MUCH about this, as he very much needs a son to be his heir, but he does care enough about agnès to not completely despise his daughter. he’s a pretty indifferent father at this point. although i’m sure he always made claudine feel fairly useless, just for being a girl.

about six years later, agnès became pregnant with their second child. tragedy struck, however, when she died in childbirth. she delivered a boy, but he did not live longer than a day.

THIS is really the turning point where louis goes from bad to the absolute worst. it’s all buried and complicated inside him but he’s truly devastated by agnès’s death. she was always so alive with passion he just never expected to lose her. and the fact that he loses their son, HIS SON, within a day, it just breaks him for good. he goes from awful to downright ruthless. he grows more wicked toward his daughter, seeing too much of her mother in her and blaming her for it. blaming her too, for not being his much-needed male heir. he also becomes a terror in his court, and in general just a horrible person to be around.

unfortunately at this point, the psychological damage that has been done to him just really causes him to spiral out of control. he’s blinded by unprocessed grief and unfounded rage. and the people are in an uproar! who will be their heir! where is the dauphin of france!! all this just makes him desperate to find another wife to give him a male heir. it’s all he cares about now. so, less than a year later, louis found someone. it was similar to prologue adam’s parties where the villages and towns were taxed to send all their maidens. and renée elizabeth aubert was the only daughter of five children. her parents OF COURSE wanted to give her the opportunity to marry THE KING!

and… it worked. louis saw her and found her to be beautiful. (oh, shall i mention here that he’s 30 and she’s 17?) renée wasn’t as tenacious as agnès but she was gorgeous and held her head high. she intrigued him. (and her mentioning that she had four brothers was definitely a factor for louis.) so, he courted her and married her swiftly.

renée settled into her new life as queen. louis distracted and enticed her with the finest clothes and jewelry, making her feel so very adored. she tried to get along with her step-daughter, claudine, who was around 7 years old at this point, but poor princess claudine was so traumatized from losing her mother and from louis’s abuse, so she didn’t really want to connect much with renée. so, claudine spend the vast majority of her time with her governess, who was basically raising her fully at that point.

soon, renée became pregnant, and successfully delivered a boy! huzzah!! adam is here!!

for a few years, things carry on. louis grows more twisted and disinterested in his wife and children. he hardly sees claudine, and he’s disappointed in adam thus far. (adam didn’t start speaking or walking until he was like 2-3, so louis was convinced he was just “stupid” and they all got worried he was possibly deaf. but renée knew her boy wasn’t deaf or stupid, because she actually spent time with him and could see that his mind just worked differently. and he always looked up at her when she called his name.) regardless, louis was also getting increasingly frustrated with renée, because she kept miscarrying pregnancies. (i think giving birth to adam very nearly killed her, and left damage that just made carrying any future pregnancy to full term impossible.) so, louis was now stuck with a useless daughter and a worthless son and a dysfunctional wife. and he made sure they all knew it! he continued to drink and be abusive. claudine sort of gets out of it, eventually going to live in paris for private tutoring and finishing school.

but! claudine would still come home for christmas, and other events. well, approaching one christmas, louis and renée had been away on a trip for diplomatic reasons. on the trip, renée had caught some sort of illness. when they returned, they kept adam away from her (for fear that the heir would catch it) but unfortunately, princess claudine was there, and caught the illness. renée recovered in a couple of weeks. the princess, however, died. she was 12 years old.

adam was 4, and doesn’t really have any memories of his sister claudine. especially since they didn’t really grow up under the same roof. but anyway, louis is just angered by yet ANOTHER death in this godforsaken family of his. and he, despite caring very little for claudine, IS saddened because she WAS his last piece of agnès. he decided to blame renée, since she’s the one who brought the illness home.

well. time carries on. some years later, when adam is nine and a half, he loses his mother, queen renée, to illness as well. he’s left alone with his father, and you know how the story goes…

anyway my take is that the de beaumont family is quite literally cursed by death and for generations they’re just plagued to lose people but Just Enough survive to maintain the family line. and adam, breaking his own separate curse by the enchantress, does then, in turn, break the beaumont family death curse as well. because true love conquers ALL. thank you 💙

[greyias]

Prompts for Days: 41. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

A semi-sequel to this fic. Based on my original very incorrect theory on what horrible creature might eat my beloved turtle son in the Rishi stronghold.

The sand was soft and fine under Theron’s feet, and the breathtaking blue waters of Rishi lapped at his toes as the waves fell in succession on the shore. He and his wife walked over the shore, their fingers laced together, the warm sun and summer breeze dancing in their hair. It was another beautiful, balmy day in this slice of paradise that Theron still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that it was theirs.

This was their first visit to their secret little hideaway on Rishi, purchased on an impulse during their honeymoon. The deep ding into their savings still smarted every time he logged into their account — but it was worth every credit, to see the wide, beaming smile on his wife’s face as they walked down the Defender’s boarding ramp to look out on their home away from home.

He’d had to arrange for a proper inspection, furniture delivery, and all the less than ideal aspects of home ownership before they’d had to return to “real life” on Odessen. As a result, they hadn’t had time on their honeymoon to explore the breadth of the property. Although he had managed to sneak in at least one “celebration” up on the balcony that overlooked the magnificent view that was now technically “theirs”. 

This second trip, though, was all about relaxing and enjoying themselves. They were taking it slowly, savoring the seclusion and paradise that was their little slice of heaven. They ambled along the shoreline towards the unexplored edge of their property, and the large sea turtle who’d been sunning itself on the rocky part of the shoreline noticed the two humans and lumbered in their direction.

But despite the moniker lovingly given to him by Grey, “Speedy” was having difficulty keeping up with their pace.

Her face lit up on seeing Speedy — really, half the reason they had bought this place was just so he could see that look on her face, again and again. Their pace was forced to slow as she gushed over the little guy, telling the turtle about how much she’d missed him. If Theron didn’t know any better, he’d almost think the creature actually understood her.

“That’s quite the smile you’ve got there, Theron Shan.” She squeezed his hand, the wind blowing the loose strands from her ponytail around her face. “What are you thinking about?”

“Just admiring the view,” he said, pulling her a little closer so she would realize he wasn’t talking about the beach, or that damn turtle.

Her cheeks flushed red, freckles on her nose crinkling as she tried to duck her head. “I’m—”

“The absolute best view here on Rishi? Mm, yes, I’d have to say so.”

“You’re just trying to get me back up on that balcony again.” The red flush deepened ever so slightly.

“Would that be so bad?”

“Later. When Speedy has gone back to his cave. I don’t want to mentally scar him.”

“He’s a turtle. I don’t think he cares.” He looked down at the reptile in question. “Isn’t that right, Shell-face?”

“Theron, it’s a turtle. He doesn’t speak Basic.”

“You’re the one concerned about his mental health!”

“He still has feelings!”

“So do you,” he leaned in close, voice low and husky, “and I’d like to explore them.”

“You’re incorrigible.” The crimson flush spread down the column of her neck, and turned her head with a flutter of her eyelashes.

“Is that a no?”

“It’s a ‘not yet’. I still want to see where that path leads.”

“Pretty sure it’s a dead end,” he replied, letting her hand slip back into its familiar place against his palm as they wound their way down the shady, rock-lined footpath at the edge of the beach.

A thin trickle of seawater made its way back into the perimeter of their property along the path. The trek was made more hazardously slick by the loose, damp sand that coated the terrain.

“It almost looks like a drainage ditch,” Grey mused idly. “Was that on the plans?”

“I left my datapad back in the apartment,” he reminded her. “You said no work.”

She huffed out a breath. “This is a vay-cay-tion.”

“And yet we somehow still spend it finding new adventures,” he shot back.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Well, that was true. With Grey around, Theron’s life had never been boring. A vacation was all about recharging and enjoying the finer things in life; spending time together and getting to know one another in a way that was impossible in the constant chaos that was their daily lives.

Although he should have known that nonstop adventures came with the territory of marrying a Jedi. He had just hoped for their vacation adventures to be more of the bedroom variety. 

They continued to carefully pick their way along the path, until it reached what looked like an old, rusty drainage pipe jutting out from the edge of a cliff, a large metal grate blocking the way.

“Looks like the end of the road,” he said.

“Hold on,” she said, pulling her hand out from his as she frowned, approaching the grate. “I think... There’s a note here?”

“A note?” Theron frowned. “On a sewer grate? Why would anyone bother to leave a note there?”

She shushed him, leaning forward to peer at a large sign that had been nailed in the center of the grate. Her hand brushed across the sign.

“It’s a notice of some sort.”

“What kind of notice?”

“Caution,” she read out loud, “do not open. It’s always hungry.”

“Hungry?” Theron frowned. “What is always hungry?”

“It’s...” she trailed off, a frown stealing across her features as she suddenly straightened, like someone had plucked a string on an instrument only she could hear. “It’s big.”

“It? What is ‘it’—?”

That’s when he heard the eponymous ‘it’ — the deep clack of large claws snapping, and the low thunder like rumble of large legs stomping from the darkness, as a giant cove crab lunged at the grate. The thing was massive, at least twice the size of the shaclaws that roamed Sky Ridge Island and Raider’s Cove. Its large, muscular legs seemed almost small compared to the menacing claws that could easily crush any creature unfortunate enough to cross its path.

Kind of like them.

Grey leapt back in one graceful movement, speed enhanced by the Force that flowed through her. The metal creaked and groaned as the beast flung itself, trying to grab at easy prey.

“Yeah, I would say that thing looks hungry,” he shouted, his hand instinctively going towards his hip where his blaster usually sat, but only brushed against the slick material of his swim trunks.

Right. Vacation. 

Meaning he’d actually, for once in his life, left his weapon back up at the apartment—they both had. Because this was meant to be a relaxing trip. 

The metal on the grate groaned as the crab flung itself at the metal separating it from its breakfast. It had clearly been installed a long, long time ago — and public works hadn’t exactly been a strong point on Rishi since the pirates had taken over. From the amount of rust on the grate, the sea air had been corroding the metal for some time.

“I don’t think that’s going to hold much longer,” he said, as the mass of claws and spikes kept throwing itself at the barrier.

Even as he said it, the metal on the grate gave another great groan, and the panel burst outwards towards them. In the split moment before it fell, Grey had leapt backwards, yanking Theron with her. They tumbled across the rocky path before both scrambling to their feet to face the now free and very hungry monstrosity.

The crab snorted, the thick, green carapace on its back shuddering as it chittered, then lunged towards them. With instincts borne from a lifetime of battle, they avoided the claws that snapped at them, just barely as they tried to maintain their footing on the slippery sand.

“We should probably run,” Theron said. “Seafood is not really my thing. And you’re a vegetarian.”

Humor was how Theron coped, even in, or especially if the timing was horrible. She shot him a glare even as she propelled him down the path with a shove of the Force.

“Go!” she shouted.

That was kind of the plan they both had in action, but as he turned around, he saw that she had stopped following, and instead had planted herself square in the crab's path.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Distracting it,” she called over her shoulder. “Save Speedy!”

“Speedy?” Theron sputtered. “You want me to save the damn turtle?”

“He’s our friend,” she called, as she dodged a swipe of claws, “and I’m not letting the poor thing get eaten! There’s no way he’ll be able to outrun this thing!”

Theron frowned. She was right; he supposed. The turtle would have no chance of escaping the crab’s grasp. “But—”

Grey leapt into the air, the jump propelled to unnatural heights by the Force. The crab opened its claws, missing her by a hair’s breadth as she flipped mid-air. She arced over its head before landing gracefully on its shell.

“Have you lost your kriffing mind?” Theron shouted.

“Go!”

She was not making a suggestion. She was giving an order. He snorted an angry breath, but knew that there was no arguing with her when she switched into heroic Jedi mode. He charged back down the path, hoping to maybe find something he could turn into a makeshift weapon against the giant crab — only to see the shell of one, stubborn and clearly unwary sea turtle peek around the corner as it steadily made its way down the path after his human friends. 

“Oh, for the love of—!” Theron cursed as he ran towards the stupid reptile. “No, Speedy! Get back!”

The turtle just gave Theron a wide-eyed, almost confused look, as he wrapped his arms around the animal’s shell and attempted to heave it up into his arms—and nearly threw out his back at attempting to heft five hundred pounds of stubbornly immovable Testudine.  

“Speedy,” he growled, “you need to go on a diet!”

Theron abandoned his attempts to carry the animal out of harm’s way and instead tried to push the turtle back towards the beach. Speedy just blinked at the spy, and Theron could swear he looked offended. 

“Just go!” he yelled.

Speedy blinked at him once. Twice. And then, at turtle-like speed, took a step towards the beach. Then another. Theron looked back over his shoulder at the giant crab bearing down on the both of them.

Seeming to finally sense the danger, Speedy peered its head in the direction Theron was looking, took one look at the beast lumbering towards them—and retreated into his shell.

“That is not helpful!”

He was going to die.

Eaten by a giant man-eating crab as he tried and failed to protect a blasted sea turtle. It was, quite possibly, the most embarrassing way to go. His only comfort was that he would be too dead to hear anyone mock him about it.

Theron looked up from his failed attempts to move the stubborn turtle, and watched as the beast coming towards them suddenly veered away as if directed to by an unseen force—or rather, the Force. He spied his wife, still atop the crab, holding her hand out, as if directing the creature’s movements. 

It passed by man and turtle without a second look, heading down the path and towards the beach. Theron scrambled to his feet, leaving Speedy behind as he tried to keep pace.

Despite the crab’s best efforts to buck Grey off, she kept her balance. As the massive beast hit the wet sand, she braced her feet against the carapace and pushed off with all her strength, flipping high into the air as it crashed into the waves and kept on swimming.

She landed in the soft sand, panting, hand still held out as if still directing the beast with the Force.

Theron finally reached his wife and caught her in his arms before she fell to her knees. She flashed him a grateful smile, before turning a worried gaze at the green shell disappearing off into the horizon. “I hope that isn’t a mistake to send it that way.”

“Well, I hope it eats those stupid pirates,” Theron muttered petulantly.

“Theron Shan,” she admonished. “Don’t be mean.”

“Yeah, well,” he brushed her bangs out of her face as he looked her over for any signs of injury, “after dealing with a crab the size of a rancor, I’ve earned the right to be a little cross.”

“That was not exactly what I had expected to find,” she admitted.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“I’m all right,” she assured him, and then smiled so wide that her nose crinkled, “and so is Speedy.”

“Yeah, not for lack of trying.”

“You’re still my hero,” she said, as she rose to her feet and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Enough of a hero to get you back out on that balcony?” He asked, pulling her closer.

“Hmm,” she considered, leaning into his embrace. “You were pretty brave.”

As if on cue, the turtle poked its head around the corner, looked at the couple, chirped, and then made its way over to his rescuer. Speedy nudged Grey’s hand with his head and then made a little huffing noise before he rubbed his shell against her hand.

Theron rolled his eyes, trying his best not to smile at the cooing noises she was making as she pet the turtle. 

“Next time, I’m leaving you with the crab.”

“Aw, he doesn’t mean that,” she assured Speedy. “He’s just grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Theron protested as he pulled his wife closer to his embrace. “Just ready to get back to our vacation.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Grey agreed, as she closed her eyes and leaned into her husband’s embrace, and absently run her hand over Speedy’s shell.

Together, the three of them watched the sun as it continued its slow ascent into the sky, basking them in its warm glow. And for this moment, at least, all was calm and peaceful. Just the two of them, enjoying a tranquil tropical morning.

And a giant, cowardly turtle.

[therealvinelle]

I've always wondered this, but what do you think the Cullen's political viewpoints would be, given their individual backgrounds? if vampires don't change after they turn, then surely they would all be extremely racist (especially Jasper). would this not come up at some point? they aren't like the Volturi because the Volturi are too old to care, but the Cullens are young enough that they have been brought up with opinions on stuff like sexism, racism, homophobia and the like.

Oh fuck.

You get an early answer because otherwise I'll just chicken out and delete this one, pretend I never saw it.

UMMM.

Since I'm guessing you meant American political viewpoints, we need a disclaimer. I am not American, and not too knowledgeable about your politics. Not just in the sense that I don't follow the day-to-day drama, but as I am not an American citizen there are several things I don't know, can't know because I've never lived in your country and therefore can't know what the effects of living in a country ruled by American policies is like. What I do know is based off of the news in the foreign section, social media (by which I mean tumblr posts), and Trevor Noah's Daily Show.

I am an outsider looking in.

Which is really rather appropriate, since the Cullens are too.

The Cullens go to high school and college, Carlisle works, they pay taxes, they own real estate, and submerge themselves in American culture. Esme, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Bella are young enough that this is in many ways their world, and apart from timeouts they've more or less spent their entire lives, human and vampire, integrated into American society.

Not fully integrated, mind you, they do what they need to to fit in and get to school or, in Carlisle’s case, to work. They go no further. No extra-curriculars for the kids, no book clubs for Esme, no game nights for Carlisle. They walk parallel to humans, not among us.

In addition to this they're obscenely rich, which puts them another thousand miles from the experiences of your average American. They won't deal with the health system, which means healthcare is a non-issue, they're not going to need welfare or other social programs, unemployment is another non-issue. Name your issue, and the Cullens don't have personal stake in it. Even the climate crisis won't be a problem for them the way it will for us.

What I'm trying to say is, American political issues are a concept to them, not a lived reality. Just like they are for me. So hey, you made a great choice of blog to ask.

I'll also add here that you say the Volturi are too old to care, and I agree- from an ancient's point of view, racism is a matter of "which ethnicity are we hating today?", and it all looks rather arbitrary after a while. Same with every other issue - after a while it all just blends together into "what are the humans fighting over today? Which Christian denomination is the correct one? Huh. Good for them, I guess."

I can't put it any better than this post did, really. The Volturi are real people, humans are nerds and tumblr having Loki discourse. Aro thinks it's delightful and knows entirely too much about Watergate (and let's be real, Loki discourse as well), but the point I wanted to get at is that politics really don't matter to vampires.

And I don't think they matter to the Cullens either.

So, moving on to the next point while regretting I didn't put headlines in this post, I'll just state that I don't think vampires' minds are frozen. Their brains are unable to develop further, and they can never forget anything, but... well, this isn't the post for that, but in order for this to be true of vampires they would barely be sentient. They would not be able to process new impressions, to learn new things, nor to have an independent thought process. Yes, we see vampires in-universe (namely, Edward, who romanticizes himself and vampires) believe they're frozen and can never change, but there is no indication that this is a widespread belief, or even true. Quite the contrary - Carlisle went from a preacher's son who wanted to burn all the demons to living in Demon Capital for decades and then becoming a doctor and making a whole family of demons. Clearly, the guy has had a change in attitude over the years. Jasper, in his years as a newborn army general, slowly grew disenchanted with his life and developed depression. James initially meant to kill Victoria and hunted her across the earth, then became fascinated and changed his mind about it.

Had these people been incapable of change, Carlisle would still be hating demons, Jasper would be in Maria's army, and James would still be hunting Victoria.

It goes to follow, then, that they are able to adapt to new things.

The question is, would they?

Here I finally answer your question.

So, we have these people who don't really have any kind of stake in politics, who keep up to date all the same (or are forcibly kept up to date because high school) and are generally opinionated people.

Where do they then fall, politically?

(And this is where you might want to stop reading, anon, because I'm about to eviscerate these people.)

Alice votes for whoever's gonna win. She also makes a fortune off of betting each election. Trump's 1 to 10 victory in 2016 was a great day to be Alice. MAGA!

The actual policies involved are completely irrelevant, she does this because it's fun. Election means she gets to throw parties. Color coded parties for the Republican and Democratic primaries, and US-themed parties for Election Night! (Foreigner moment right here: I at first wrote "Election wake" before realizing that's not what y'all murricans call it.)

Alice loves politics. Doesn't know the issues, but she sure loves politics.

Bella votes Democrat. She actually knows about the issues, and cares about them. This girl is a Democrat through and through.

Carlisle doesn't vote. I can't imagine it feels right. Outside of faked papers he's not a US citizen, this is meddling in human affairs that he knows don't concern him.

More, this guy has never lived in a democracy.

In life, Carlisle lived under an absolute monarchy that, upon civil war, became an absolute theocracy. From there he learned that vampires live under a total dictatorship.

For the first 150 years of his life, democracy was that funky thing the Athenians did in history books thousands of years ago, no more relevant to him than the Ancient Egyptian monarchy is to me. Then the Americans, and later other European countries started doing this.

Good for them.

There's this mistake often made by those who view history from a... for lack of a better term, a solipsistic standpoint. A belief that the present day is the culmination of all of history. “My society is the best society, the most reasonable society; all the others had it backwards. Thank god we’re living in this enlightened age!”

The faith in our current system of government is one such belief. We (pardon me if this doesn’t apply to everybody reading this post) have grown up in democracies, being told this is the ultimate form of rule, and perhaps that is true - but remember the kings who have told their subjects they had were divine and the best possible ruler based on that. Remember also that most modern democracies haven’t actually been democracies for very long at all, America is the longest standing at some 230 years (not long at all in the grand scope of things) and they have a fracturing two-party system to show for it.

Every society, ever, has been told they’re the greatest, and their system of government the most just. Democracy is only the latest hit.

This is relevant to Carlisle because he’s immortal and decidedly not modern. Democracy has not been installed in him the way it was the rest of the Cullens, Jasper included. To him- well, it’s just not his world. He has no stakes in our human politics, and as he is older than every current democracy and has seen quite a few of them fall, he’s not going to internalize the democratic form of rule the way a modern human has.

I think the concept of voting is foreign to him.

It requires a level of participation in human society that he’s simply not at. He does the bare minimum to appear human so he do the work he loves, but nothing more, and I find that telling.

As it is I think he'd be iffy about his family doing it. He won’t stop them, but in voting they’re... well it’s kind of cheating. They’re not really citizens, none of this will affect them, and by voting they’re drowning out the votes of real human voters. He does not approve.

Edward votes Democrat. He's... well he’s the kind of guy who will oil a girl’s bedroom window so he can more easily watch her sleep without being discovered, justifying it to himself as being okay because if she were to tell him to get lost he’d stop immediately. Same guy is so sure that he’d leave and never return again if she wanted him to, except this is the man who returned to Forks to hang around his singer, knowing there was a significant chance he might kill her. To say nothing of his Madonna/Whore complex, or of the fact that he tried to pimp out his wife twice, and was willing to forcibly abort her child.

This guy is very much in love with chivalry, with being an enlightened and feminist man who supports and respects women, while not understanding the entire point of feminism, which is female liberation.

He votes Democrat because he’s such an enlightened feminist who cares about women’s rights.

Emmett doesn’t care to vote, but if he has to he votes Republican. The guy is from the 1930′s, and has major would-be-the-uncle-who-cracks-racist-jokes-if-he-was-older vibes.

Esme doesn’t vote, that would require getting out of the house.

More, I just... can’t see it. I can’t see her being one to read up on politics and The Issues, period, but if she has to then I doubt she’d be able to decide.

Jasper doesn’t vote. Alice can have her fun, he does not care.

There’s also the whole can of worms regarding the last time he went to bat for American politics.

I imagine he stays out of this.

Renesmée doesn't vote. She has no stock in the human affairs. Who would she vote for, on what grounds? When Bella tries to pull her to the urns, she points out that she's three years old.

Rosalie, guys, I’m sorry, but that girl is definitely gonna vote Republican. Perhaps not right now as it’s become the Trump party of insanity, but the Mitt Romney type of Republicans? Oh yes.

And for the record, yes I imagine she does vote. To step back from politics would be another way she was relinquishing her humanity, and that’s not allowed to happen. So, yes, she goes to the urns, less for the sake of the politics involved and more because like this, she’s still a part of society in some way.

Now, onto why I think she’s Republican, I think it’s both fiscal and social.

This girl was the daughter of a banker who somehow profited off of the Depression, and who then became part of a family with no material needs that would soon become billionaires thanks to Alice. Poverty to Rosalie is a non-issue, as it is I imagine she views it as a much lesser issue than what she’s had to deal with. The humans can pull themselves up by their bootstraps, Rosalie’s infertility is forever.

Rosalie’s empathy is strongest when she’s able to project onto others, and she won’t be able to project onto the less fortunate at all.

Then there’s the fact that the Republican party is all about traditional family values, and pro-life.

Rosalie, a woman from the 1930′s who idolizes her human life and who‘d love nothing more than to get to live out this fantasy, is down for that. And as of Breaking Dawn she’s vocally pro-life, so there’s that.

This all being said I don’t think Rosalie cares to sit down and fully understand these politics she’s voting for, the possible impact they’ll have- that’s not important. What’s important is what voting does for her.

TL;DR: I bet anon regrets asking.

[muffindaddystyles]

My love I have read your almost all fics before but today for some reason I read almost I had read them again. What can I see I'm absolutely enamoured by each one of 'em 🌻🌻🌻.

My best wishes to you keep writing and keep prospering ✨

And for my request if you can write a blurb for the memory loss fic about them having a baby they talked about that would be really sweet 🥺 No pressure.

🌞 Anon

THANK YOUUU SM BUTTONS! YOUR LOVE MAKES ME FEEL SO WARM! Y'ALL COULD REQUEST WHENEVER UUUU GUYS FEEL LIKE

HIREATH (Y/N looses her memory from getting into an accident and Harry loves her all over again)

It all began with the weekly cleansing of their home. Yes, home. After months and months of getting accustomed to every creak of floorboard, the corner of hallway where sun shines the brightest, the tiny library Y/N loves to spend time with Harry – she has finally come to terms with calling this big sleek house her home, her most comfy space.

And Harry her person.

She has got a bunch of her memories back but other half still haunts her to sleep and she memorises the one she has a grip on to never let them slip and to cherish them till they grow old together.

While Harry had his head butted into some dusty corner to retrieve some boxes Y/N went through drawers to clean the cluster out, they both were singing ‘I’m always by your side’ by John Park.

Though, halfway through it Y/N stopped. She felt like the words choked her throat with tears bubbling in her eyes and her fingers trembled as she flipped the frame that has yellow and lilac chunky hearts on it’s borders.

“Can we have a family of ours? I've some affection for another pair of little bambi eyes.” She doesn’t remember writing it back there and it hurts her like a painful stab.

You don’t remember the most important detail of your own damn life, what a sadist.

She scoffed to herself.

When Harry didn’t hear the saccharine hum of her wife his head perked up, “Lovie?” His smile that was fluttering up from hearing their favourite part coming up and him about to be yelling at her to sing it with him dropped wrenchingly when he heard those sniffles.

“Baby.” He rounded towards her worriedly. Massaging her shoulder to make her look at him and the sorrow in his’s loves eyes broke his heart into shards tumbling him to his knees infront of her.

“What happened, darling?” He asked cupping her cheek gently and ran his thumb over her wobbling damp lip.

She just shook her head and sucked through her teeth, dollops of tears fell on Harry’s cheeks and sobbed into his hand with her eyes bolted shut.

“’M sorry!” Harry frowned when she apologised stroking her nose into his wrist, “Sorry f'what sweet pie?” He asked getting more concerned every second ticked by.

“That you wanted a family with me and I ruined that f'you ...” Her hiccups went breathless and Harry’s heart thumped into outer space for some seconds, he completely forgot about that lil present.

“Shh. Shh. ‘s okay me sweet girl, shh c’mon. Nothing’s ye fault. ‘M happy that you’re safe, healthy and happy in my arms, yeah?” He went to hug her and let her cuddle into him and she breathes his tangerine vanilla-y scent to calm herself down.

“Are you happy, though?” His tone was uncertain and his irises lurked with hope.

“Very.” He sighed in relief when She squeezed his fingers and bobbed her head profusely with that cute shy smile of hers, “Then all set! ... and fo’ babies my love we could have them whenever y'want,” He grazes his palm down her spine in smooth circles, “Whenever you’re ready.” He affirmed her in his most loving and assuring voice.

“Can we try for it now?” Harry’s brows shot up at her timid and hesitant whisper, his eyes glossed with tears of happiness because he thought he'd never be able to see this moment in his all life.

He pets her hair down her head and kissed her forehead, arms wounding around her shoulders to embrace her protectively and sentimentally.

“You want a tiny me and a tiny you!?” He grinned pushing her back gently to look down at her with cheerful eyes, when she bobbed her head with equal enthusiasm and excitement he turned all soft and mushy -- palm pressing against her belly.

“Want me t’put a baby in this pretty tummy of yours?” He smooched pecks on her lips, then kissed her compassionately at her honest confession that she actually wants what he’s been wanting for ages.

She wants to be the mommy of his babies.

.

Y/N's 6 months pregnant. With Harry’s bub. In a phase of it where her skin's all glassy and glowing, her eyes angelic and they grow proper lil suns on the sight of her hubby coming back home early to them.

Harry’s been never happier than this. He feels as if the whole world’s yarned up into his pocket.

He makes sure that his lovin’ is feeling comfy and pleased everytime, staying awake with her till mornings -- eating snacks and her weird cravings with her to make her feel less bad about it, taking care of her diet plans and her health, loads of love making and satiating sex, he’s always there to wipe her tears and listen to her tantrums all caused from her maternal hormones.

“Harry! Bambi eyed!!” She’s been sprawled on their deep snuggly sofa watching telly when she felt the baby moving around inside her while Harry swirled more cream on their strawberry pies.

“What happened –.. wait.” Anxiously Harry rushes back only to be met by his overly joyed girl as she huffs trying to sit up, “Come watch my belly, our baby’s havin’ a dance party inside here!” She giggles and forwards her hand for him to grab.

“Gimme your hand! Gimme! Gimme!”

“Is that so?” Harry smiles fondly wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her from back to his chest, “Don’t hear any music babe.” He teases her planting his ear against her swollen belly all of his teeth showing brightly when he feels a small prod against his cheek.

“Our bub just kicked!!” He squeals, smacking a little rushy kiss to her lips then again fixes himself back to his favourite spot.

Every night he reads books to the baby and listens to music with headphones around her belly in this exact spot.

“Harry ...” Y/N scratches his head and runs her fingers through his curls hoping that there lil one get them as walnutish and pretty.

“Do y'think I’ll be a good mother?” At that Harry moves all his attention on her and makes scooches her nearer to her, “Why’d y'ask that baby?” He asks brushing the loose strands of her hair way.

“Dunno.” She shrugs clutching the hem of his hoodie, “I don’t remember stuff from our past – sometimes I forget too much and then it comes all back. What if in old age my amnesia hits back and they'd get too annoyed by me.” There comes the pregnancy whining and wild thinking, messy tears and anxious thoughts.

“Moppet ...” Harry sighs, closing his eyes and kisses her cheeks.

“You’re g'na be the best mommy ever! Knows that they’ll love you endlessly, darling. Your memories doesn’t change the person you’re – my love, my life, the momma of my babies, you’re doin’ so good.” She giggles through her sniffles when Harry showers her in loud slobbery kisses.

“Watermelon with peanut butter sounds so good right now.” She murmurs into his neck and Harry’s glad she’s all bunched up in his arms because he did most disgusting face he could ever scrunch up.

“But, I just made y’a pie!” He whines counting on his fingers when she bursts into tears upon hearing that.

“Cute. Thank you. But, your baby wants that.” She pokes him in ribs and gives him the most puppy eyes ever.

“Alright. Not joining along though.” He gives her a pointed look and plucks her pout.

“Harry! Promise it’ll taste s’good.”

“I bet.” He quips, creating comical gagging noises.

“Meanie.” She grumps trying to bite his earlobe mischievously.

[astra-stellaris-a]

『☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ』 ── ​ @fallesto​ // continued from here ── 『･ﾟ⋆*･⋆*･ﾟ☽』

Michikatsu handwriting, messy, more of a scribble on wet pages from the field of battle, with tears upon the edges as he wrote it with haste before he had to go.

My darling wife, Tsugikuni Atria Astra

I thought the worst when this was delivered to me. That this war had spread and reached you. That I was to be given the news that all dread that they failed to protect there family.

It was nice…it was a surprise to receive this letter, from your own hand as well.

As I help there husbands to train and fight, you help them to better themselves as well. This is also…nice…very surprising to learn. That you are using your talents to better those around you. In time it will change enough, that they will not notice your accent, but I doubt you have any concern that they will press any issue you upon you or make you feel comfortable.

I have seen the others.

How they were as surprised as I was to be given handwritten letters.

You have done a good deed her.

I am…pr….

My father’s needs and wants, are of no concern to me! He is only to ensure your safety and the land, nothing more. I wish for you not to talk to him, unless needed.

Without mother, he has….changed, but it is too little too late. Feed him only scraps, he is unworthy of your generosity and hospitality. If he were not my father, I would wish for you to throw him from our home and offer him no guest rights at all.

I know it is not what you expected, but…I miss you also.

I have only ever fought, in small skirmish with local criminals and filth. This is different, my blade will be tested against other samurai. This war, it is…challenging. To know I will finally have my blade taste the blood of those worthy of it. I will write to you again, once I have more time.

---

Tsugikuni Michikatsu

And Astra did look for those crossed out letters... and was even able to decipher a few. Those crossed out--warmed her heart. Even if he were unwilling to show it, he still.. he was still him.

Dearest Husband Tsugikuni Michikatsu-sama,

You needn’t worry about my health. I will remain safe. I’m very careful about things and only go out when absolutely necessary. (here, there was a drag of her brush, as if she were unsure, and then..) I promise.

 I speak more than one language. I was taught chinese first--as that was my father’s family’s language and learned japanese after. The accent always frustrated my mother, as she tried her best to make me lose it, but it’s remained. My family recently moved--when my father was younger... my grandfather-- and they are considered diplomats. And even beyond that, our family history spans from china to the western world. I do not have the map to show you, but that is why our names are so strange.

I am.. happy... that I was able to provide a moment’s reprieve for you all.

Here, the ink seemed to blot on the page.

I must admit that I am careful around your father--just due to how the negotiations of our marriage happened. I hold no love for my mother, the same as you seem to hold for him... but I was not told very much. My decision was made for me. (And that was why she was so emotional that day--she’d only had a few day’s notice)

I treat him with the respect that his position as your father provides and no more. I am very good at giving just what is required. I will be very careful around him--if he has reason to give you that reaction. You’ve never addressed me so strongly before, so there must be a good reason. (that was a painful acknowledgment) 

You will rise above these challenges that face you, Husband. I know you will. You’re very strong. And very kind. I did not expect you to be so. I didn’t know what to expect, but I am happy that you do not find me disagreeable.

(those weeks... while tough.. were something she cherished. She was never alone like this. But.. it made her realize things. Made her stop jumping whenever she heard a floorboard creak or she accidentally dropped an egg, or even something as simple as staring into space, or reading.)

I miss the coastline, but I miss little else of my home. One day, I will take you there.

The magnolia tree is growing and it should bloom soon. I will send you it’s blossoms when it does-- that’s the scent I wear. I was told that the others bathed their letters in perfume...

But I’d rather you have something more tangible. Something real for you to hold onto.

Has things gone better for you? (here, there was something crossed out--edges of letters peeking through, the same as he’d done. though hers was more intentional, and readable if he held it up to the light.) I don’t wish for you to suffer more than necessary.

Please take care. Write me when it’s safe.

---

Tsugikuni Atria Astra

(with those three stars in the same pattern from the last letter)

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

you got a fetish for my love, i push you out and you come right back

summary: the softest man in the world is in love

warnings: nick is a warning. how dare he. smut. smoking (but we’re trying to get him to stop). some of that daddy shit bc ugh, that beard.

word count: around 5,320

pairing: nick vaughan x reader

a/n: let me tell you, it is weird writing nick one second, the softest, sweetest man, and then switching over to ransom, aka satan.

“You shouldn’t be smoking.”

The man with his back to you turned around, arching an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

You brought your hands up to your waist, looking as confident as you could possibly make yourself look. You didn’t have a mirror on you, but you would bet it wasn’t very convincing. “Um, second-hand smoke. Third-hand smoke. Not to mention what it could do to you.”

Moving closer, he took another brief drag. “And what’s that?”

You huffed. Really? You were going to reach way back into your 8th-grade health class memories for that. “Lung disease, it can cause cancer, like, everywhere, heart disease—”

“But you’re already taking care of my heart, angel.”

You fell silent at that, frowning.

He continued to close the gap between you. “What else?”

“It’s bad for your skin,” you asserted, tone firm despite how close he was getting. “Causes wrinkles.”

“That so?”

You nodded, refusing to step back as he stopped mere inches before you. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re my father.”

He smirked, dropping his cigarette on the floor and stepping on it with the toe of his boot. Boots that were far too expensive to be stepping on cigarettes with. Hell, he shouldn’t even have been outside with them. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

Your gaze moved off to the side and finally, you stepped away to create some distance. ‘You said you were going to stop, Nick.”

“I know, I’m trying.”

“Try harder. I’m being serious, okay? People die—”

He moved back in front of you and took your chin in his hand, forcing your gaze up to his. “I’m working on it.”

“If you really care about me, you’ll stop.”

“I’m gonna stop,” he promised. “Soon. Come on, don’t give me those eyes.”

He loved your eyes. He had to have told you about a hundred times by now, claimed he liked the innocence in them that never seemed to die out. No matter how many times he took you up to his hotel room and fucked you in every filthy way he could think of. Sure, it was pretty sick sometimes, but he always touched you so softly, whispered the sweetest things to you, and held you afterward.

Your eyes could make him do just about anything, he would often declare. Except, apparently, stop smoking.

“Come on, I’m sorry.”

You crossed your arms, pulling out of his hold. “You’re only sorry you got caught.”

“No, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“And don’t be sorry to just me, be sorry to yourself. I think you need healthy lungs for your music career, right?”

He lifted his eyebrows, still amused at how serious you were being. No one in New York took smoking seriously.

“Also, you ever stop and think about what would happen to me if you weren’t here?” That was a little on the sneaky side. You knew that there was the overall scenario of you being lonely, but he would soon start to think about how that would mean you would be with other people.

He scoffed, feigning calmness. “No, I don’t. I don’t want you to, either.”

You didn’t need to hear it, you knew he could connect the dots. “You are forcing me to.”

“Angel, what’s all this about?” he wondered. “Why are you being such a brat?”

“I’m not being a brat,” you immediately protested. Even though you knew he didn’t mind, there was just something in you that twisted at the thought of being bratty. You were not trying to be argumentative even, you were just worried.

“You want daddy to spank you?”

You looked around with wide eyes. Not that anyone in New York had the time or interest to listen to anyone else’s conversations, but still, this was private. “Nick.”

He tsked. “Nick?”

You sighed, casting a look around. “There are too many people here.”

He chuckled. “No one’s listening, angel.”

“I’m not being bratty,” you muttered. “I’m just concerned about you. Since when is that a crime?”

He smiled, reaching his hand out for you. You didn’t waste any time nearly wrapping your entire body around his arm. “What do you want?”

You were not getting away this time, he was also in a mood. Evidently, since he usually spoiled you to the point of letting you get away with “misbehaving” if you apologized or feigned discomfort.

“Take me upstairs, daddy.” It was hardly above a whisper, but it thrilled him to no end that he’d managed to get you to call him that outside of the absolute comfort of the bedroom.

Nick liked you feeling safe with him. He’d never met a more trusting soul, someone almost naive. However, it had taken him a long fucking time to get that sincere trust from you. He picked up on the body language, the things you wouldn’t say. That was why he could give the date for the night you finally let him fuck you with the lights on, the night you finally stayed with him until morning, the night you finally gave him your number because he had convinced you to sneak away from your dad to meet him at the hotel and you had to get back home but you still wanted to talk to him. He could give the date for the first morning you woke up and put on one of his shirts, the morning you let him eat you out for the first time, the morning you let him fuck you against the hotel window.

He wrapped his arms around you and started to lead you inside. It had been almost a year now and you were obsessed with Nick. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and he was kind and gentle, but also passionate and sometimes a little rough when he knew you wanted him to be. It was never mindless, hard fucking. Even when he made it hurt, he held you so close, so tight, his eyes would remain on yours the whole time. He would wipe away your tears and continue bucking his hips. He would whisper to you, coo at you, and make you fall apart until you were so exhausted you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

You were pretty sure you were in love with him. He would be the first. Sure, there was your first boyfriend who you had wanted to be your first for everything. He’d given you a promise ring and told you that he wanted to wait until you were his wife. That one didn’t end well. Your third boyfriend, you thought that one was real. You’d had sex with him, and then he completely disappeared. To this day, you had no idea where he was. But you knew now, those things you’d felt for them, they were so small, so weak. What you felt for Nick was consuming, you felt like every inch of you belonged to him, like you were made for him.

In the elevator, with an elderly couple, an older man, and a party of four younger women that looked like they were on their way to a club, Nick had his lips to your ear. “Angel, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re crying. You know I love those sounds you make and the look you give me when you just can’t take anymore. When your beautiful, little cunt is used and aching and dripping with my cum. But that’s only after I have you on the bed, wet, squirming, begging daddy to make you feel good.”

You felt like you were on fire. If anyone heard, you would be mortified, you would never be able to leave your house again. Things like this were supposed to be private, between the people who were doing it. Nick had the audacity to make some of it almost public. You would admit that there was the tiniest bit of thrill, but most of it was fear and panic.

He touched the side of your face and you startled a little, one of your hands coming up to settle over his forearm. “Jesus, you’re beautiful and so fucking…innocent.”

You were not innocent. You weren’t even sure what he meant by that. Ever. When he said it, you were confused each time.

“The thought of your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock, trying to take all you can because you’re so good to me, those eyes staring up at me…”

You swallowed thickly, eyes moving to the elevator buttons. How many more god damn floors were there? The elevator stopped again seconds later, and the elderly couple got out. Fewer people but you still didn’t feel any less nervous.

“Afterward, your sweet, tight pussy will be dripping. You know how wet you get after you suck my cock.”

Embarrassingly wet. He was fascinated the first time you’d done it, then he laid you out on the bed and when he made the discovery, he ate you out until you could barely remember what year it was.

“Then I’m gonna have you on top of me, angel. You’re so good at it, I swear you were made just to ride my cock. Remember what you were begging me for last time?”

You remembered and instantly felt your skin burning all over again.

“Maybe I’ll fuck your—”

The elevator stopped on your floor and you rushed out. The group of girls was also getting out, creating some time for you to get away from Nick and breathe. He was always intense, and he never stopped pushing you. You didn’t necessarily hate it. Really, you knew you liked it, but you could never admit that to him, his behavior would just get worse.

He found you with your back pressed against the door, waiting patiently for him. He’d been staying here for several months; he had the same room because he’d wanted to give you a key. For emergencies, he claimed. If you ever needed a place to get away, even if he wasn’t home. It had only happened a few times, he wouldn’t say a word when he would find you bundled up in his bed. He would just join you under the sheets and make you come several times, at least.

He set his hands on your hips and you looked up to him. “What’s on your mind tonight?”

You woke up that morning just knowing. You were in love with Nick and you were terrified. You didn’t want to be in love, not with him. With his music career taking off, he couldn’t want something serious. You figured this was just him wasting time. When he was an established name, he would go out and find himself a proper partner. It wasn’t you, this shy, small thing with no backbone, terrible parents, and no solid plans for your future.

But why ruin a good thing? You wanted to let it last while you could. You smiled at him and shook your head. “Nothing, really. I missed you.”

He smiled back. “I missed you, too.”

You didn’t live in New York with your father, but you had been visiting a lot more frequently. Your father was thrilled about it, thrilled enough not to want to question it. Your mother took it as an insult and didn’t ask a single question about why. It was honestly the perfect crime.

It had only been three weeks since you’d last been with Nick, you were allowing for less time to pass in between the nights you spent with him. You once went a month and a half, how unimaginable that felt—you knew you wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. You would go crazy without him being able to touch you for six weeks.

“You could stay,” he pointed out. “Here. With me.”

You scoffed. “No, I can’t.”

“You could apply to NYU, I’m sure you’ll get in. You could start building your life over here. If not with me, why not live with your dad?”

This was getting serious and you were worried this conversation would wreck everything. Nick thought he wanted something, but only because he was scared. You didn’t want to uproot your entire life for something fleeting.

“I don’t want to talk about this tonight,” you said quietly.

“Okay. But we will. Later.”

You nodded—a lie. You wouldn’t even be with him much longer. You had breakfast you’re your dad and then you would be on a flight back to your mother’s. “Yeah.”

Smiling, he asked, “Well, what do you want to talk about?”

You shrugged. “I don’t want to talk.”

He hummed. “No? You don’t have more scolding to do?”

“I can wait,” you teased. Your eyes flit to either side just to make sure no one was around. “But right now, I just want you to touch me.”

He bent down just slightly to pick you up by your thighs. You eagerly wrapped yourself around him and pressed your lips to his, kissing him like it’d been years.

He struggled to open the door, but you didn’t seem to mind that you could get caught at any moment, you seemed completely distracted by him. That was his goal, make your time here so good that eventually, you just wouldn’t be able to leave him.

Finally, he managed to get you inside the room. You had it all memorized, even with your eyes closed you knew exactly where he always was. He was leading you down the hallway, past the kitchen and the living area, to the door at the end of the walkway. Past the bathroom, past the dresser full of sheet music and records.

He laid you out on the bed delicately, pulling away so he could stare at you. You moved to pull your skirt up, but he caught your hands in his. “Not yet.”

He started at your feet. He pulled off your shoes and began kissing your calves, a touch that felt so distant through your tights.

You whined. “Daddy.”

“You’re going to be patient, angel.”

And that was that. You never argued with him, rarely disobeyed. You were perfect, you were good. You were, as he so fondly called you, an angel that did everything she was supposed to do. Not just for him, but for everyone. He knew that about you, knew that you never liked to make trouble for anyone. Even your dad, who had been almost completely absent during your childhood, off chasing his current wife. Even your mother, who was mean, unsupportive, and childish. You were sweet as could be, well-behaved, soft-spoken, bright-eyed, and glowing. He thought you were perfect.

Biting your lip, paying close attention to how much you were moving, you watched in near silence as he continued to press his lips up your legs. As soon as his eyes flickered up to yours, your heart was pounding. There was a lot about Nick that you just didn’t understand.

You could look at yourself in the mirror and understand why people thought you were pretty, but of course, you did not think as highly of yourself as Nick thought of you. Alternatively, he could not do the same. He could not understand why you liked looking at him in the mornings, why you liked to trace his features with your fingers, why you spent so much time just kissing his face whenever you got the chance. You were baffled that he could look like that and not know what he did to people.

He blushed a lot. When you accidentally told him, the first time, that you thought he was beautiful—never again would you drink wine with him—and now, all the deliberate times after that. Because unintentional or not, you meant it and you wanted him to know. When you would take him in your mouth and he had his hands at his sides, leaving you to control everything, and when you took so much of him that you would gag and choke, he was permanently flushed. When he played for you, forget it.

He was at the hemline of your skirt and started pushing it up, kissing at the insides of your thighs. You bit down harder on your lip as he continued up, up, up until he kissed your pussy. Over tights and your panties, it was still good enough that you shuddered. You could feel his beard, some random hairs managing to poke into the open spots of your tights. It was a feeling that reminded you of being home, not with either of your parents now, but when they were still together in your first home. Nick was comfort and security, he was warmth and so much raw emotion.

You brought one hand up to press your fingers to your lips. You were so wet that you could feel the material against you was damp. He always knew how to do that to you, how to get you so wanting. And the neighbors always knew when you were there, they would play music because you were so embarrassingly loud, not that he was ever considerate about that. You just wanted to pretend you had some dignity, at least for a while.

He kissed across your thigh and up the side of your hip, back across until he could kiss down the opposite side. You remembered you used to hate when he would do this, when there wasn’t a part of you that he wouldn’t at least devote a moment of attention to. You didn’t hate it now, you noticed it made you a lot more confident. You didn’t care how tight a skirt was around your hips or that a skirt was so short that everyone could see your thighs touching. It wasn’t even his goal and it wasn’t dependent on his interest in you at all, but you knew he was the cause.

You often wondered if he looked at everyone like this. It really hadn’t been long, but sometimes you swore he might feel the same about you. You’d always wrote it off as your age, but how would someone his age honestly fall in love with you? And if he wasn’t, why the hell did he look at you the way he did?

“How many lives have you ruined?”

His eyebrows rose and he pulled his mouth away from you. “I’m sorry?”

“You look at me like that, you kiss me like that—”

“Like what?”

You rolled your eyes. Honestly, you weren’t sure how to put it into words. The last thing you wanted to do was accuse him of acting or pretending. That was one of the few boundary lines with Nick that was quickly established—he didn’t like analysis of his emotions. They were his own and he didn’t want anyone to presume that they knew them better than him. You truly didn’t mind. You’d come from a toxic environment of men who would sooner die than cry and couldn’t healthily express their anger if the world depended on it. “You know like what.”

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.” He leaned back down, kissing either knee once. “But I won’t make you, I want you to want to say it.”

First time he’d ever taken that route. He teased you a lot, like challenging your views. And he liked those rare times you could challenge his. You’d both talked and talked until you managed to get to this place where you were both completely comfortable with what you were. He had to compromise on how casual this could seem at times, and you had to compromise on how obscenely intimate it was to you sometimes. And though you both compromised, it was still hard to see the other’s point of view. What was he so scared of with ‘casual’? You, on the other hand, dreaded falling for someone who couldn’t reciprocate.

He reached for your tights and slowly pulled them down. Again, he moved to where he was exposing skin and scattered kisses all over you. He deliberately got as close to your pussy as he could without ever touching you, several times, and enjoyed that you gasped and shivered each time.

He didn’t pull your underwear out of his way before he finally kissed you there. He went on like this, curious to see just how much you could take. You tried not to ask for more, to feed into his ego, and you succeeded for several minutes. You could feel his tongue and his lips, the texture of your panties was slight stimulation, but as time went on, you craved him more.

When you finally broke, your eyes were filled with tears, your hands were shaking as you reached for him, and you couldn’t form a single coherent word. Instead of pulling your panties down and eating your pussy, he moved up your body and removed your sweater and your bra. Again, he was kissing you all over, but you could hardly focus on anything other than your throbbing pussy.

“Daddy, please,” you whimpered.

He moved his mouth up until he could kiss your lips. He settled down on the bed beside you and pulled away, sitting you up a little. You took his cue and shifted up on the bed until you could rest on the headboard.

You watched as his hand reached for you, holding your breath until he was sliding one finger into you. “Fuck, daddy.” Your hips bucked almost immediately, silently begging for more. He added a second finger and you turned to hide your face against his chest.

He curled his fingers slowly, focusing on the sounds you made, the way your body would tense and shudder, and soon enough, he’d found that blissful spot that he knew made you see stars.

You clumsily reached for his pants, taking far too long to get your hands on his thick cock. You felt yourself get so much wetter, remembering just how big he felt inside you. Not that you were experienced when he’d found you, but taking his cock had been so delightfully painful and you kind of liked that he was the first man really stretching you out like that.

“Fuck,” he breathed against the side of your face. “Watch my fingers, angel, watch me fuck you with them.”

You turned down, paying attention to how they moved, and the wet sounds from your pussy. You slowly moved your hand along his cock, wanting—but too shy to ask for—him to cover your body with his cum. He preferred finishing inside you, he liked letting it drip out of you and then filling you back up all over again.

When your breaths turned shorter and your moans became louder, he knew you were so close. He moved his fingers faster, brought his thumb down to your clit. Your whole body was shaking, and he could feel how desperate you were because your hand around him tightened.

“You wanna come, angel?”

“Please, daddy,” you blurted out. “Please, please make me come.”

He pulled your hand off his cock and kissed you when you made a noise of protest. His opposite hand never even faltered as he explained, “Daddy’s coming inside you. Keep begging.”

“Please, I want to come, daddy. I want to come on your fingers, I want you to get me wet enough so my tight, little pussy can take your huge cock.”

“What a filthy mouth, angel. Where’d you learn to talk like that? Been watching the videos I’ve been sending you?”

“Yes, daddy. I watch every single one and I touch myself, thinking about how much I miss you inside me.”

“You have no idea how much I miss having your pussy wrapped around me when you’re gone.”

You finished with a sharp cry, using your free hand to try to push his touch away, but he was so much stronger than you. Add to the fact that you really didn’t want him to stop, if you could stay there in bed with him, feeling that for the rest of your life, you would.

You almost instantly rolled over on top of him, kissing him as you moved up his body until you were straddling him. He set his hands on your hips, holding you steady as you slid down on him. As you adjusted, he let his hands wander to your breasts. You were still shaking, panting, trying to come down from your high but you were addicted to pleasing Nick.

You rolled your hips, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. You needed to see him naked, coming here without seeing all of him would be an absolute waste. He helped you get the shirt off after a moment and your hands roamed all over his torso.

He took your hips again, using his hold on you to pick up the pace just a little. You let your head fall back, he would want to watch your body anyway. You brought your arms back and rested your hands on the mattress around his legs. He had to fuck you just a little harder from this angle to see your breasts move with every thrust, but you were okay with that.

You always knew when he was close because his fingers would dig into your skin and he always did everything he could to get as close to you as he possibly could. This time, he sat up and pulled you up so your chest was flush against his. You continued bouncing up and down on his cock, mewling and whimpering because you knew he loved those sounds.

“Are you close, daddy?”

“Yeah, angel, keep going just like that.”

“Tell me when you’re really close.”

He faltered for just a second, processing your odd request, but did not argue.

You set your hands to his face, dragging him in for a kiss, open-mouthed, tongues, moaning obscenely for one another. As he was distracted, you unwound his arms from your back and held them flat on the mattress by his forearms.

“I’m close,” he informed after turning his head just slightly, breathing heavily on your skin. “I’m so fucking close.”

You started moving quickly, pulling off of him and crawling back down the bed. He was stunned silent until you bent down and took his wet cock, messy from your pussy, in your mouth. You’d only just closed your lips around him when both of his hands settled on the back of your head to hold you down. He only needed to jerk his hips up a few times before he was filling your mouth.

He kept you there until his high had drifted away, and you never once complained. You swallowed the cum that you could, but some of his had slipped out of your mouth, and sucked softly until he let you up.

As soon as you were sitting up, he was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you on top of him. Still trying to catch his breath, it was clear that he wasn’t letting you go for quite some time. Because no one would expect Nick to want to cuddle after sex.

And because his brain was not functioning at its best, he was simultaneously attempting to kick off his pants and pull the sheets over the two of you. But you weren’t there to be unsupportive, you simply laid on his chest and tried not to laugh.

After he’d managed it, which had to have taken about five minutes, he turned off the lamp on the bedside table and stretched over to do the same on the other side. He once again wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. “Fuck, I love you.”

You weren’t sure how to respond, so all you did was lay there. He didn’t miss a beat, he just started running one of his hands through your hair and then nothing. Not another word.

Fuck.

You only woke up because Nick was moving around so much. As quiet as he tried to be and as softly as he tried to move out from under you, he always failed at it. When he realized he’d woken you up again, he froze.

You grabbed one of the pillows and yanked it over his face as you climbed out of bed. You didn’t want to have to get up because that meant that you would soon have to leave. You grabbed your phone out of your bag on the way to the bathroom, not bothering to get dressed. Nick loved seeing you walk around the room naked, and that was why you always ignored that nervous nagging feeling that told you to cover up.

“Sorry,” he called out.

You didn’t respond.

After you brushed your teeth, you opened the door. You heard him moving around the bedroom as you were performing your simple morning skincare routine. He always did that, just waited until you were done so he could get in. He liked making you watch in the mirror.

And right on cue, Nick entered the bathroom, stopping just inches behind you. You didn’t turn, you merely watched him in the mirror and waited. He wrapped his arms around you, and you noticed the single red rose he was holding. He started at your lips, letting the flower trail down, then over your nipples, and down just above your navel.

You shivered when he pulled it away, offering it to you. With a smile you were looking down to hide, you took the rose from him.

He kissed the side of your face, arms wrapping loosely around your waist He pressed one hand to your stomach, and you were reminded of how much you loved his stupid hands. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m sorry about what I said last night. I know it was…a lot.”

Yeah, it was. You’d built it up in your mind as some terrifying thing that you would never want to hear, especially from him, but when he said it, it just wasn’t like that. When he said it, it made you feel safe. It made you feel loved. “But did you mean it?”

“Only if you’re not going to run away.”

You finally looked up in the mirror, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I won’t.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“And maybe I love you back.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe,” you confirmed. “And maybe I’m even considering staying.”

He perked up at that, turning you around quickly to face him. “Tell me what I need to do or say and I will.”

You brought the rose up and set it to his lips, smirking again.

He narrowed his eyes.

All you did was shrug. “Not sure yet, but you have all day to convince me.”

“I thought you were leaving today.”

You set the rose down on the counter. “Changed my mind.”

He was beaming as he picked you up and sat you on the counter. “That means you’ve already decided to stay.”

“I never said that.”

“I’m not letting you leave. Ever.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your smile. “I have to go home, you know…and pack.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled. “Probably a good idea to let my mom meet my daddy.”

“Please don’t make those jokes in front of your parents.”

You snorted. “Oh, now you want to be a gentleman?”

“Always am, angel. Open your legs and I’ll prove it.” He spread your thighs wider as he got down to his knees. He pulled you to the edge of the counter and with his eyes on yours, he took your pussy with his mouth.

“Fuck,” you gasped. “But this means you have to stop smoking.”

He pulled back, narrowing his eyes at you. “Now, seriously?”

You buried both hands in his hair and pulled him back in.

chris tags:

@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @kleohoneyao3 @cevans-fics @gotnofucks​

[scuttle-buttle]

WC: 1394

Rated: T

Tags: descriptions of injury, small mention of blood, Niki being a dummkopf, german, angst, hurt/comfort, some humor

A/N: our favorite Austrian asshole made interesting choices regarding his health. We knew this 🤔

🚜

Niki pulled into the pit quicker than he intended when the grand prix ended. The brakes squeaked in protest. He didn’t even care that he’d come in 4th place. His chest felt like it was on fire, like he would combust at any second. He needed to get out of the car.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Swallow. In. Out. Don’t puke.

Biting his lip to stifle the pain, he was sure he would bite the damn thing off. Arturo and Luca are already waiting to help him out of the car. Carefully they help him maneuver himself out of the car as smoothly as they can. Niki nods in thanks. The two share a look over his head, knowing something is wrong. “Get Dungl on the phone.” Luca leaves to do as instructed.

“What’s wrong?” Arturo asks.

“Ribs,” is all Niki can manage to get out around the tightness in his chest. Arturo nods, knowing about his situation. Niki leans onto a wall, keeping his back as straight as he possibly can. His breathing is shallow.

Looking up under his lashes he can see you walking over to greet him. He panics for a moment, knowing you always wrap him in your arms after a race, even though he complains that he must smell awful. He does the first thing he can think of - he grabs your hands in his own, holding them out to the side a bit as you lean in. This way you are still able to kiss him without surely doing more damage to his ribs.

You must notice the odd gesture, the stiffness in his lips as he returns the favor; your brows furrow for a second before smoothing out again. “You did great out there today.”

Niki’s answer is curt and forced. “Thank you.”

His response sounds annoyed almost, like he’s holding back anger at something. Nothing particularly dramatic happened during the race itself that you remember. You figure he must be upset about not placing in the top three. You had no fears that it had anything to do with you. Holding out a hand to him, you intend to walk him back to the trailer to change out of his coveralls.

He hesitates, his body clenches tight as you begin to pull him. A grunt breaks from his parted lips, his eyes scrunched shut.

Stopping, you search his face and ask “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, liebe.” He looks over your face and sees your questioning glance. “Muscles are just tight after being in the car,” he fibs, a strained smile on his face.

You seem to buy it enough. This time, Niki is as prepared as possible when you pull on his arm again. Each step he takes sends a stabbing through his chest and through his spine. He does his best to mask the pain from his features as you walk to the trailer.

Once the door is closed you turn to unzip his uniform. He allows you this much, knowing that he literally can’t bend over to push the garment down his hips and legs. Carefully, he steps out of the material with your help. Fucking hell, it hurts. He focuses on schooling his breaths so that you don't notice when it inevitably hitches.

The toe of his shoe catches on the pant leg, causing Niki to lose his balance. Nearly falling into the side of the trailer to catch himself he can’t stop the agonizing yelp that he makes. “Scheisse!” The little air that was in his lungs leaves him, his head spinning with pain and lack of oxygen. Black spots swim through his vision.

At his exclamation you stand, your hands flying out to steady him against his chest. At the contact of your fingers against his sweater he flinches, giving another pathetic yelp. You yank them off him; “Niki what the hell is going on?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, his face scrunched in a deep scowl. He can taste the iron from where he has bitten through his lip. Without realizing it, he’d brought one arm up around his waist to clutch at the injury.

You notice his arm cradling his chest. “Sit.” It’s a command that Niki doesn’t have the ability to fight. He lowers himself onto the bed in the corner. Reaching down, you carefully pull his arm away from him, slowly lifting the sweater up. A black and white binding of some sort supports his torso. Fingers barely ghosting down the thick straps, you ask “what is this?” You are full on panicking at this point.

“I’m fine, liebe, I just need to sit for a minute,” he grunts out.

“That’s bullshit, Niki, and you know it. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Looking at your face he can tell that you’re barely restraining your fear and concern for him. He can also tell that you're right - he does feel like he's moments from losing consciousness. Niki licks his lips. “I… broke a few ribs.”

“You WHAT? When!?” your shout echoes around the trailer's walls.

He can’t suppose he’s upset by your reaction. There is no doubt you would have found out sooner or later anyway. Niki just hoped it would have been less dramatic circumstances. “Few days ago. I- uh-” he groans, the talking straining his chest uncomfortably, "fell off my tractor. I’m fine.” The Austrian lilt to his accent is heavy and rough.

Your hands fly up as if to say ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’, a scoff joining the gesture. “First of all - why the hell are you racing when you’re hurt, and second - since when do you drive a bloody tractor?”

He doesn’t have the chance to answer you; a knock on the door breaks your attention to the visitor. Thank god for Niki, it’s his trainer Dungl. He doesn’t look pleased himself as he enters, giving Niki a judgemental look for good measure. Dungl gets right to work sorting Niki out.

A few hours later you drive Niki home. He has been quiet since the trainer, as Niki had referred to him, arrived and sorted him out. The race had caused two of the broken ribs to shift out of place and press up against his lungs. Had he been in an accident, god forbid, he could have punctured a lung and killed himself with his stupidity. The radio does nothing to quell the tense air surrounding you both.

“You can’t do that.” You swallow.

Niki clears his throat gently. The drugs he’d taken have taken effect finally, giving him respite from the agony in his chest. “I know.”

“You’re so smart Niki. Christ, you’re the smartest guy I know when it comes to this shit. But then you pull an absolute bollocks move like that.” You take a breath to calm yourself. He shifts next to you. ‘I’m not- I’ve already accepted how dangerous the drive is… but I can’t Niki. I can’t watch you pull some bullshit move like this again. You scared me half to death. I'm going to be your wife, Niki; I need you to keep yourself alive.” Emotion hangs on every word you speak.

Niki knows it was stupid. Ich bin ein dummkopf, he thinks regretfully. He just got so caught up in racing and winning and not wanting to be seen as weak. Reaching a hand over, he circles his fingers around your own. He rubs his thumb across your palm. “I know. I’m sorry, liebling, really. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You are silent for a moment before you nod, your eyes remaining on the road ahead of you.

“I love you, Catherine. More than I could ever say.” He brings your hand to his lips and places a delicate kiss to your knuckles. The solid warmth of your ring gives him comfort that you'll stick by him even when he pulls hairbrained stunts like this. Not that he's planning any more of them, that is.

Finally, you break your eyes from the road to look at him. “I love you too, you right idiot.” The grin on your face confirms that you have forgiven him.

A few moments of now comfortable silence passes, your hand still in his as you drive. Suddenly your voice pierces the quiet, “and another thing - how on earth did you get run over by a tractor?”

@toobruhlforschool came in clutch with finding this in the Niki autobiography for me:

Tag list: @ay0nha @apparrio @livvyshmiv @fictionlandslanddreams @vinylrosess @typical-bistander @ntlmundy @mymagicsuitcase @anteroom-of-death @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lieutenantn @multiversemarielle @trashbin2 @whatawildone @metalbreakfast @laura-naruto-fan1998 @greeneyedblondie44 @godidontevenknowwhat @marchingicenotes7

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

The Love Yet Known Part 3

Summary: Tommy Shelby needs to make sacrifices to ensure the safety of his family. So he concocts a plan to marry off his sister to the one and only Alfie Solomons.

             Late that summer after everything was settled with Luca Changretta, Tommy invited Eliza and Alfie to visit Arrow House in Warwickshire. Since Tommy was the one who initiated it, he figured it would be a nice, quiet few days. Charlie clearly missed his aunt dearly. The little boy was used to always having her around to entertain him. He always asked after her and became cross when Tommy said she was married, that’s why she didn’t live with them anymore.

            “Well, when is she not going to be married?” Charlie would ask.

            Tommy just chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t think there will ever be a day when that happens, my boy.”

            No one was blind to the growing affection Eliza and Alfie had from their wedding day on. In fact, it was quite a sight to see when the two were together. Such a shy thing like Eliza had a calming effect on Alfie, who rarely seemed to be in a sour mood when she was around. Likewise, he seemed to bring Eliza out of her shell a little bit. She had many friends in Camden and found herself more active in the community than she ever imagined she would be.

            Tommy never gloated, well he tried not to, but he liked to boast about how he made the match between Eliza and Alfie.

            Still, Arthur and a few of the other Peaky boys were having a hard time accepting Alfie into their sacred spaces. They considered him their sister’s husband, not a brother-in-law. They had a petty habit of writing to Eliza and addressing it with her maiden name. Arthur felt sick to his stomach if he saw his dear sister’s name next to a name like Solomons.

            Alfie wasn’t very hospitable either. He wouldn’t let go of old habits of trying to rile Arthur up. He only ever invited a few of Eliza’s family members to visit them in Camden. None of them even knew the married couple shared a beachfront home in Margate. Alfie would shudder to think if the Shelbys got an idea of inviting themselves over for a holiday.

            But all things considered, life was going well.

 ~~~~~~~

            Alfie helped Eliza out of the car. “This place gets bigger every time I visit; I swear it does.” He muttered.

            His wife laughed softly. “Well, hopefully, you don’t get lost.”

            Charlie came running outside to greet his aunt. “Auntie Liza!”

            “Hello!” Eliza beamed and stooped down to pick her nephew up.

            “Oh, love, be careful.” Alfie winced. It was a good thing Eliza wasn’t easily irritated. Because once Alfie found out she was pregnant, he became overprotective. He insisted on carrying things for her, let her sleep in as long as she liked, and had someone come in to take over any housekeeping duties that she might’ve done. Not that Eliza was keen on keeping anything clean anyway. Alfie knew he was being annoying, but he wanted to make sure that his child and the mother of that child was well kept. He felt it was his duty to ensure their safety and health.

            Charlie gave Alfie a side-eye. “Hi, Uncle Alfie.” He said in a less jovial voice.

            “You well, Charlie?”

            “Mhm.” The little boy shrugged.

            Eliza set him down and reached for her suitcase but Alfie stepped in. “I’ve got it. Go on ahead.”

            She gave him a kiss on the cheek and followed Charlie inside to find Tommy.

~~~~~~~~~ 

            At dinner that night, it was just the four of them. Tommy, Lizzie, Alfie, and Eliza. They chatted casually about things, nothing too consequential. Then, during dessert, Eliza felt it was a good enough time to tell them.

            “So, Alfie and I have news.” Eliza reached for her husband’s hand under the table and gave him a smile.

            “You’re pregnant.” Tommy finished for her.

            Alfie’s brow furrowed. “And what on Earth gave you that impression?” He snapped. He knew how important and special it was for Eliza to tell everyone about the baby, so Alfie was a bit ticked off that Tommy had affectively ruined the moment.

            Tommy glanced up from his whiskey glass. “Am I wrong?”

            “Well…no.”

            “But how did you know?” Alfie asked again.

            “Because of the way you’ve been acting around her. Anyone could tell if they’ve known you long enough, Alfie.” Tommy answered casually. “I haven’t seen her carry anything at all today.”

            Eliza just chuckled. “Well, I didn’t know we made it that obvious.”

            “You and I will have a lot to talk about then,” Lizzie spoke up.         

            “Why? Oh…oh really?” Eliza’s eyes lit up. “You’re pregnant?”

            The two sisters-in-law got up to hug one another. Surely it was special knowing there was someone else walking a similar path. After all, it’s not like their husbands knew what it felt like.

            “Well, seems we’ll be coming around much more often then, Tom.” Alfie sighed. Well, if his wife was happy, then he would drive her back and forth from London to Warwickshire as many times as she liked.  

~~~~~~~~~

            Lizzie gave birth to Ruby when Eliza was still seven months along. Seeing and holding the baby girl in her arms was such a lovely occasion. It was almost like a hint at what was to come. It would be much more surreal though, that’s what Lizzie told her.

            “It’s so strange holding her. All of a sudden, you’ve got this little life. One you’ve waited so long to hold and she’s yours to care for and love. It’s really overwhelming.” Her sister-in-law tried to explain as best she could.

~~~~~~~~~~~

            Now all there was to do was wait a little longer. The nursery was all set up and ready. Meanwhile, the midwife was on call whenever the first signs of labor came.

            In the blistering cold of February, Eliza was due any day. Alfie started to work from home just in case she went into labor and he needed to be there for her. He didn’t get out of bed as early, but he was awake much earlier than his wife on most mornings.

            It was a peaceful time where he could just bask in the warm feelings of holding his beloved wife close to him, all cuddled up in bed. Cyril keeping their feet warm at the end of the bed. His soft breathing sometimes syncing up to Eliza’s heartbeat.

            Alfie would wrap an arm around her waist, resting a hand over her swollen stomach. There, he could feel his child kicking. The emotions that overcame him when he felt that little pressure against his hand were indescribable. He was thrilled, excited, nervous, afraid. He didn’t know how he would measure up as a father. Didn’t know how his line of work would impact the life of his child.  

            Every possible worst-case scenario had run through his head since Eliza told him she was pregnant. His worst fear was losing her and the baby. Or losing the baby and having to cope with their shared grief. Or losing Eliza and having to be a single father while grieving his wife.

            The possibilities kept him up at night, practically driving him mad with anxiety. But then there were the good thoughts. The joy he would feel when he first held his child. The pride of seeing every milestone from first words to first steps.

            It was overwhelming to think about and it didn’t help that the wait was making him even more anxious.

 ~~~~~~~~~

            But finally, the day came when Eliza gave birth to a healthy baby boy. It was a relief to hear that his wife and son were both going to be perfectly fine. As Alfie climbed the stairs to see them, he felt his hands trembling with anxiety and anticipation.

            What if he did something wrong?

            What if Eliza thought he wasn’t a good father?

            What if he just wasn’t enough?

            All the self-deprecating thoughts seemed to vanish into thin air when he saw his son swaddled in his mother’s arms.

            Eliza gave her husband a tired smile. “He’s beautiful, Alfie.” She whispered with tears in her eyes.

            Alfie walked over to the bed and peered over. “Fucking hell, look at all that hair, aye?” He chuckled with tears welling up in his eyes as well. “Look at him, he’s about as perfect as you can get, ain’t he?” He kissed Eliza’s forehead. “I can’t ever repay you for giving me such a perfect gift.”

            “I think you can with a few dozen nappy changes.” She teased back.

            “Done deal.” He grinned and gently cradled his son’s head.

            “You can hold him.”

            Alfie’s nerves pricked at him again as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Eliza gently placed the newborn in his arms, looking over him with such fondness.

            “There you are.” He said softly. “Been waiting quite some time for you, mate.”

            Eliza rested her cheek on her husband’s shoulder as he spoke to their son. “What should we name him?” She asked.

            They had passed around a few names over the course of her pregnancy but none of them particularly stood out to either of them.

            “How about Asher?”

            “Is that Jewish?” Eliza asked.

            Alfie nodded. “Means blessed. Was one of the twelve tribes of Israel, back in ancient times.”

            She smiled. Truly, she felt blessed. Not just by the birth of her son, but by everything. She had found her soulmate, fell in love with him, married him, and now produced such a beautiful little boy. Her heart felt so full in her chest. “I love it. I think it’s absolutely perfect.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~         

            A month after Asher was born, Eliza brought up the idea of bringing him to Warwickshire to meet her family. Tommy was apparently arranging a dinner to bring the whole family together. That way they could catch up on things without being busy with work and the children could all see their cousins.  

            Alfie bristled at the idea. It was one thing to spend a couple of days with just Tommy and Lizzie. But to be around the whole Shelby family, it was not a pleasant thought. He almost felt as if he’d be alone, surrounded by people who didn’t quite trust him. People he didn’t really trust either.

            “Won’t be a pleasant trip, tryna get there with a newborn.” He thought of the mistake on the fly.

            “It’ll be fine, it’s not too far and I’m sure Asher will sleep the whole way there. If he doesn’t then it isn’t the end of the world.” Eliza assumed her husband was just concerned about the baby’s sake.

            “Dunno…”

            “Then maybe we invite everyone here. It’ll be a little crowded but we’ll make it work.” She suggested to eliminate the idea of traveling.

            Having the Shelbys in his space, his territory was an even worse idea. “Tommy’s place is big enough, we ain’t gonna have that many people over here.”

            “So…” She looked at him. “Then we’ll go to Tommy’s.”

            Alfie didn’t want to outright say he didn’t want to be around her family. He was afraid it might break her heart. But he wasn’t going to pretend that it was a joy to be around them either. He stifled a groan, feeling backed into a corner for sure. “I mean…if it’ll make you happy, love.”

            “I want to see Ruby and I want everyone to meet Asher.” She replied, able to hold her ground against him when she chose to. “So yes, it would make me happy.”

            There was no arguing that. His wife’s happiness was one of the few things that mattered to him. “Alright then, we’ll go. I won’t be a bother about it.” He promised, earning a smile and a kiss from him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

            Asher slept through most of the car ride over to Warwickshire. Eliza appeared happy to be seeing her family and to introduce them to her son.

            The sun was starting to set as they entered the estate. Alfie felt on his guard as he walked in beside Eliza, already hearing the colorful language coming in from the parlor. There was laughing and yelling coming from upstairs, most likely the children playing with one another.

            Polly saw them coming in first and rushed over to embrace her niece. “Look at you. Motherhood suits you, my dear.” She turned to Alfie who was holding his son. “And there he is. Looks very healthy. You must be very proud, Alfie.”

            “Yeah.” He smiled slightly. Leave it to Polly to get on his good side even when he was tense. “He’s a lot of work, ain’t he, but it’s rewarding.”

            Polly could see the hesitation in Alfie’s eyes. He was holding Asher protectively to his chest, his eyes scanning across the room almost looking for potential threats. She decided he would have to warm up to the idea of handing his son over for anyone to hold.

            Eliza didn’t appear to catch onto her husband’s discomfort. “Alfie, I’ll take him.”

            “S’alright, love. I don’t mind.”

            “Well, let Polly hold him for a bit.” She suggested.

            “It’s alright,” Polly replied gently to her niece. “You two make yourselves at home. I’ll get you a drink, love. Alfie would you like something?”

            “No, thank you.” He replied a bit relieved that Polly hadn’t pushed the matter.

            But then Arthur swooped in and gave his sister a bear hug. “Glad you came, chey.”

            Eliza giggled and hugged him back. “Hi, Arthur.”

            “Good to see ya. Now, where’s the little one, aye?” The eldest Shelby’s eyes settled on Alfie with a look of slight distaste.

            Eliza stepped in to try and keep the atmosphere light and festive. “This is Asher, he just turned a month old.” She reached over to adjust the little cap on the newborn’s head. His dark hair was sticking out from underneath it.

            “A month already.” Arthur shook his head. “Well, wish we could’ve been there earlier.” He gave his brother-in-law a stern look. As if Alfie was purposefully keeping Eliza hidden away in Camden Town to keep her away from her family.

            “Arthur…” She sighed. But it was too late. The powder keg had already been lit.

            “Well, mate, it weren’t the easiest delivery. Eliza had to take a bit of time to recover.”

            “If Pol had been there like she wanted then maybe it wouldn’t have been so difficult.” Arthur wasn’t standing down from the challenge. In fact, he welcomed a reason to argue.

            “Arthur, that’s enough.” His aunt interrupted. “We’ve had this discussion before but it’s over. The baby’s already born.”

            But neither man listened to a voice of reason. “She had the best midwife in Camden Town there. Are you insinuating I wouldn’t get the best for me wife?”

            “I’m saying you’ve been keeping our sister from seeing her family.”

            “She’s got a mind of her own, mate, she can go wherever she wants whenever she wants.” Alfie crossed his arms over his chest.

            “Please, will you two just stop?” Eliza begged.

            “Did she have a choice when Tommy sold her off to you?” Arthur’s voice raised and Eliza knew she had to step in before the rest of the party started to take notice of the brewing storm between her brother and husband.

            “Alright, enough. You two are making a scene and it’s ridiculous.” She took Asher from Alfie’s arms when he was caught off guard and handed the baby to Polly. Before her husband could protest, she grabbed his arm and dragged him into another empty room of Arrow House.

            “You’re just going to leave him?” Alfie spat.

            “With my aunt who I trust with my life? Yes!” She snapped in an exasperated tone. “What on Earth has gotten into you? I thought this would be a nice visit, I didn’t think I had to tell you to be on your best behavior. But apparently, I should’ve because you’re acting like a child!”

            “Your brother started it!” His normally soft-spoken wife gave him a death glare. Alfie backtracked when he realized the childish response was exactly what Eliza was talking about. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I just don’t like him treating me that way. Like I’m some monster who kidnapped you.”

            “Oh, Alfie.” She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him close. “You know Arthur and you know that’s not true. You’ve given me everything and I’ve never been so happy. But we can’t make them see that. If they don’t see it then that’s their fault.” She kissed his cheek. “We know the truth.”

            He grumbled. Of course, she was right, seldom was she wrong. It just didn’t help that when they went back to the party, Arthur would still be the same. “M’trying, love.”

            “I know you are.” She smiled. “They’re difficult. But you are too.”

            He chuckled. There was no arguing that.

            “But now Asher is sort of a buffer. You just have to let them hold him.”

            Alfie looked disgruntled. He knew intuitively that none of the Shelbys would bring harm to the child. But there was still that protective instinct that he could never totally shake. If he let his guard down, bad things happened. The only time that wasn’t the case was when he was alone with Eliza and Asher. That quiet space where everything good in the world seemed to line up. Nothing outside of their warm home mattered.

            “Alright.” He relented. It seemed reasonable that if he played along, the sooner they would be out of there.

            Eliza smiled and kissed him softly. “Try to enjoy yourself.” She said before going to return to the party.

~~~~~~~~~

            Alfie followed and found Polly was still holding Asher. But Ada and Lizzie were cooing over the baby. Tommy was sat next to his aunt, holding Ruby and smiling at his new nephew. Even Arthur was nearby smiling at Asher.

            Alfie did his best not to hover even when his son was passed from relative to relative. It seemed to make Eliza happy to see her family holding her newborn. She spoke proudly about him. The meaning of his name, his blue eyes, how much Cyril adored him, and everything else that had happened in his short life.

            After a while, Alfie began to relax slightly. Although he always kept an eye out to see who was holding Asher.

            Toward the end of the night, his son was finally placed back in his arms. Asher was fast asleep despite the Shelbys having a good time with a good amount of alcohol. Alfie gently touched his cheek with his thumb. “They can be exhausting, aye?” He murmured quietly. “Better get used to it I suppose. Don’t think they’re going anywhere.”

            Asher yawned and shifted slightly in his swaddle.

            Alfie glanced up when he heard someone clear their throat. Arthur was standing nearby, a glass of whiskey in hand. “Mind if I sit?” He gestured to the empty armchair near the sofa Alfie was sitting on.

            “Ain’t my house, mate.”

            Arthur shrugged and sat down. “So, how does it feel, aye? Must get no sleep with him. And Liza, I doubt she ever gets up. Would take a train to wake her when she was younger.”

            It was a strange olive branch but Alfie chuckled. “Yeah, it’s tough tryna get her up to nurse him. S’alright though. Never been a big sleeper myself.” He admitted.

            “Yeah, war will do that to you.” Arthur agreed after a sip of whiskey.

            They were so similar, it was a wonder that they butted heads so often. They were veterans with deep scars, liked to solve problems with their fists, hardly flinched at death, and yet fiercely cared about their kin. But bad blood was hard to wash out, especially in their line of work.

            “I’d always be up with Billy when he was that young. It’s good, keeps your mind busy.” He added.

            “They’re a good distraction.” Alfie nodded, looking down at his son. “Changes a lot of perspectives on life.”

            Arthur looked across the room to see Eliza smiling at him. Of course, she’d put him up to it, insisting that if he wanted to see more of her, he would be nicer to her husband. Arthur complained but she wasn’t hearing it. It seemed that marriage and motherhood had really taught her when to put her foot down. But sitting there with his brother-in-law, Arthur seemed to realize that there wasn’t much else he could do. Here they were, both fathers to a son, both husbands. They were too old to be the vicious fighters they were as young men. It was too tiring.

            Alfie came to a similar conclusion. They could fight about the same things that happened so long ago. There wasn’t anything new to argue about. Just the grudges they both held. Which were equally as tiring. “Here.” He held Asher out.

            Arthur looked a bit surprised but decided not to make a scene out of it. He set his whiskey glass down and cradled his nephew to his chest. “Looks like Liza when she was a baby.” He chuckled. “She had so much hair. Our mother was shocked. I hope he doesn’t cry as much as she did. God, she was noisier than John ever was.” His eyes saddened at the mention of Eliza’s twin. It felt like ages ago that they’d lost John and yet, it was still so fresh.

            “That’s his middle name, you know,” Alfie said. “Asher John.”

            Arthur got a little choked up. “He’d be thrilled if he was here.” He tried to laugh off his grief but it was obvious how much it hurt. “Don’t think he’d ever stop bragging about it.”

            Eliza came over, so happy to see the two men getting along for the first time ever. She kissed Alfie’s temple as she sat down next to him.

            A quiet lull fell over the room. The warm chatter of family radiated with the fire and drinks. Alfie felt his shoulders relax while he wrapped an arm around Eliza’s shoulders. Things could be okay if he allowed them to be. So he did.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​ @karmezii​ @enrapturedbythemoon​ @vampgirl1997​ @tarafaithe​ @evelynshelby​

PB Masterlist

[not-all-dead]

67 for kyalin, please ❤️

prompt #67 - “I’m right where I belong.”

much fluff for this one :))

Kya was dying to get off the ship by the time it docked in Republic City’s massive harbour. She had gone through just about every available activity on the boat, trying desperately to keep herself occupied until she arrived, but getting bored of everything after a maximum of ten minutes. She couldn’t stop thinking about everyone she’d get to see when she got back, but there was one person in particular that hadn’t left her mind since her departure two months earlier.

“Lin!” Kya yelled as she ran down the ship’s ramp.

She tackled Lin in a hug, nearly knocking both of them to the ground with her momentum. She’d abandoned her bags while running to her wife, but one of the seamen grabbed them for her and set them next to the couple.

“Woah, easy there,” Lin chuckled, holding Kya tightly and breathing in her scent for a short moment before pulling away.

“Your ship was delayed and Tenzin claims that it is absolutely crucial that dinner be at seven. We better get a move on if you want to clean up before seeing everyone again,” Lin picked up half of Kya’s overflowing bags and walked towards her car.

There was a reasonable gathering of people on the dock, but not so many that it was difficult to get around. It was mostly family members or friends of those arriving from the South Pole and some stops along the way, though there were a few people boarding to travel North. Kya followed Lin the short distance to her car, throwing her bags in the trunk and hopping in on the passenger side.

“I missed you so, so much,” Kya said in an over dramatically exasperated voice.

“I missed you too,” Lin responded, giving a half smile to the waterbender.

Kya leaned across the car’s small midsection, kissing Lin before she could start the car. Lin chuckled when she pulled back, turning the key to ignite the engine.

“I swear Kya, I’ll never get anywhere on time with you,” Kya grinned cheekily at Lin’s comment.

“It’s always more,” Kya twirled her wrists in the air. “~Dramatic~ to arrive slightly late.”

Lin chuckled again and pulled out of her parking spot. She drove down side streets, avoiding traffic easily by knowing which streets were busiest at that time of day. They quickly arrived at their apartment complex, and Lin parked neatly in her reserved underground spot. They took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor and Kya rushed into their apartment as quickly as she could.

“Home!” She exclaimed, spinning in circles several times with her arms flung out.

Lin set the last of Kya’s bags down against the arm of the couch. Kya stopped twirling, looking out the window from across the room for a second. She felt Lin’s arms wrap around her waist, her head nuzzling into Kya’s neck.

“You stink,” Lin said, her voice muffled against Kya’s shoulder.

Kya laughed and wiggled around so she was face to face with Lin.

“Well, I’ve been on a boat for three days, and the showers on that thing are… questionable to say the least,” She kissed Lin’s forehead and pried her hands from around her waist.

“I’m gonna go shower before we have to go to dinner, alright?” Lin nodded and Kya left her standing in the main room alone.

Dinner went by quickly, with Kya telling stories of where she’d been this time and reporting on her mother’s health to her brothers. When all the kids were in bed, Kya, Bumi, Tenzin, Pema, and Lin were lounging in the Air Temple’s common room, drinks in every hand but Lin’s.

“So where will you go next?” Pema eyed at Kya curiously.

“Oh, I don’t know, I haven’t been to visit Zumi in the fire nation in a while,” She looked at the ceiling, swirling her drink around.

Lin rested her head in her hands, trying to keep her face from betraying her sadness at Kya’s willingness to leave so often.

“But, you know, I’ve been thinking, and maybe I’ll just stay here for a while,” Lin looked up abruptly when Kya spoke again, surprise coating her features.

“Don’t look so shocked, Linny dearest, you know I’ve been slowing down,” Kya teased.

“I know, I just… never thought you’d actually settle down unless it was in your grave,” Lin felt almost on the verge of tears with happiness at the idea of Kya staying with her permanently.

Kya’s eyebrows raised in concern and she crossed the room, sitting on the floor next to her wife. She set her drink on the coffee table in front of them and wrapped her arms around Lin.

“Oh my, oh my, I didn’t realize how much my travelling affected you,” She muttered into Lin’s gunmetal grey hair.

Lin didn’t like the feeling of Tenzin, Pema, and Bumi watching all this, but didn’t care enough to say anything.

“Hey, you know what, I am going to stay. I’m going to stay until we go on a vacation together, or you kick me out, or I hit the haystack,” She pulled back to look Lin in the eyes.

“I’m right where I belong. Right here with you, my amazing wife. And of course all the airheads staring at us right now, but mostly with you,” Kya smiled at Lin, who’s eyes were now visibly watering.

“Thank you,” Lin whispered, leaning her forehead against Kya’s.

“Hey, Kya, I think you’ve got the wrong chief there, this one’s all mushy!” Bumi let out a roaring laugh.

“Oh shut up, will you?” Lin quipped at him, failing to contain her own laugh only an instant later.

“I think you staying is a great decision, Kya,” Tenzin said after they’d quieted down again.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just happy because you think I’ll babysit your kids more often,” Kya rolled her eyes at her brother, who shrugged.

“It was worth a try, and anyway, I’m not wrong,” Tenzin smiled crookedly and Kya chuckled.

“As long as there are no airbending children in my apartment, we would be happy to babysit. On occasion,” Lin added, shooting a quick glare at Tenzin to make sure he understood that she was in no way going to become his free babysitting service.

“Oohh, you got the Beifong glare!” Pema poked at her husband.

“It’s not the first time either,” Lin smirked at Pema, who stuck out her tongue in retaliation.

The night continued on, with the five adults trading gossip and stories until the early morning. Finally, Lin and Kya headed back to the mainland, taking one of the small metal boats kept on the island to get there. The boat ride was peaceful, the water still and quiet. When they got home, they were both exhausted. Lin braided Kya’s hair and Kya let Lin’s down before they snuggled in bed together, falling asleep almost instantaneously.

list of prompts

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Another One?!, Part 2

First > Next

Years passed them by. It’s funny how that happens when no one in the house has a distinct schedule to follow. 

The hours blending together was actually really good for them as vigilantes. People couldn’t just plan around their normal patrolling hours.

Also, it meant that they could take days off without anyone thinking much of it.

Like today.

He glared at his reflection, touching his hair for the millionth time in an attempt to fix it. Or, rather, un-fix it. He was going for a messier look, why couldn’t he just get it to cooperate?

He gave his wife a pleading look. “Help?”

She clicked her tongue and looked him up and down a few times to get a gauge for his outfit (which he had purposely made too vague for her to get an idea of what they were doing) then rested her hands on her hips. “Well, I’d love to help…”

“But…?”

“But I can’t use my expertise unless I know where we’re going. There’s certain looks for different occasions, after all.”

He sighed. “C’mon…”

She bit her lip. “Fine. Just tell me how formal I need to be.”

“Casual…” He hesitated as he mulled it over. “But not jeans casual, more like day-dress casual. And wear darker colors, you could get stains on it.”

“There, was that so hard?”

He raised his eyebrow at her. “Considering I’m sure you’ve now guessed the surprise, I’m going to say yes.”

She gave him a cheeky grin and a wink.

He pouted. Man. He’d been so careful about keeping everything a secret from her. It was their tenth anniversary, he’d wanted to surprise her. He’d pulled out all the stops, even using cash for the tickets so she wouldn’t have an easy way to trace the payments.

Only to have it spoiled because of his hair.

Dang.

Then, she laughed and he thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad that she’d found out. The smile was worth it.

She reached up and started running her fingers through his hair. “As always, your problem is that you use too much hair gel… you never learn, do you…?”

“Maybe I do it on purpose to make you mess with my hair.”

She gave him a skeptical look and then pulled away. “Done. Time to get ready for… a carnival…? No… a circus.”

He pouted.

Marinette gave him another one of those laughs before slipping into the bathroom to change.

Two hours later they sat in a circus tent. Front-row seats, of course, they weren’t stingy.

She rested her head on his shoulder as they waited for everything to start. He stole some of her popcorn and smiled at the halfhearted glare he earned. His smile dropped when she dropped some onto his head. He pulled away from her to try and pick the pieces out.

“C’mon, Mari, my hair took so long. The paparazzi always checks on us on our anniversaries. I’m a model, you can’t do this to me --.”

And then the lights dimmed. And the ringmaster walked out.

The both of them tensed. The crowd was buzzing with excitment, but the two vigilantes gave each other wary looks. The ringmaster seemed almost anxious, his knuckles white on his cane.

Still, he gave a brilliant smile to the crowd as he announced the first act.

They relaxed the longer they watched. Nothing seemed to be going wrong, the contortionist was absolutely fine. So was the person doing aerial silks, and the clowns, the snake charmer…

Maybe the ringmaster was just new. He seemed to be growing more and more confident with each act. False alarm.

But then the trapeze artists came onstage.

Marinette murmured something about their outfits that he didn’t catch but knew was insulting.

The young performer smiled and waved to the crowd, then started climbing the opposite ladder as his parents.

The mom grabbed ahold of the trapeze and smiled as she hooked her knees over the bar, then held her hands out for her husband. The man jumped out and caught her hands.

And then the wire snapped.

The couple barely had a chance to scream before they hit the dirt.

The tent was completely silent.

And then the chaos started. Parents rushed to cover their kids’ eyes, people stumbled over each other as they ran, others surged forward to see better.

He could feel Marinette hop the railing in front of them to go check their pulses. There was no need, everyone could see it plainly, but she still tried.

Adrien didn’t move, his eyes locked on the kid.

He was standing there. He was hugging himself tightly, shaking, tears spilling over his cheeks.

He needed help.

A hand wrapped around his wrist. Marinette was pulling him out of the tent. He didn’t want to leave the kid alone but he couldn’t do that as Adrien Agreste. They needed to transform.

It took way too long to find a hiding place because people were already hiding in every obvious place they could think of. After a while they just broke into a trailer and dropped some money on the counter as an apology, unable to waste any more time.

They ran back into the tent and found that, to their horror, the police were there already.

Marinette mumbled a curse. “You deal with the kid, I’m going to steal some evidence before they get rid of it all.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then practically disappeared.

Adrien found his way over to the child, who had been covered in a shock blanket. They flinched when he got closer and he gave his most award-winning smile as he held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I don’t want to hurt you, I promise.”

They looked kind of skeptical, but they did scoot over a little on their bench so he could sit down.

He sat as far away as he could, setting his baton at his feet carefully. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

His eyes never wavered from the front of the tent. It was like he was waiting for something or someone, but Adrien couldn’t guess what.

“Dick.”

“Well, Dick, do you have any family that I can take you to?”

Maybe that was what he was waiting for --?

“No.”

His smile disappeared. Ah. Not great.

He followed his gaze to the door and mulled everything over.

The kid didn’t seem to be in much of a rush, the shock was wearing off but it would still make the passage of time kind of weird for him. Adrien could take the time to think his next words through.

He’d met kids who had lost their last remaining family members before. Sometimes Marinette and Adrien just couldn’t get there in time and she wouldn’t be able to bring them back. It was an inevitable and unfortunately common part of their jobs. But every single time felt like a punch to the gut.

But he couldn’t let that show, not really.

He watched the kid out of the corner of his eyes. You always base your approach on how the kid is reacting in the moment. Some wanted open comfort, but this one didn’t want that if the way he’d flinched when Adrien had come close was any indication. Others wanted to just talk, also not going to happen considering the short answers he’d been given thus far. This kid seemed to just want to be left alone, but leaving a child in a vulnerable state was never a good idea.

So, what was he supposed to do?

He sighed. “I’m really sorry about what happened, these kinds of accidents --.”

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Adrien blanked. “Sorry?”

“It wasn’t an accident.” Dick hugged the blanket tighter around himself. “There was two guys. Mean-looking. Tried to get Mr. Haly to do some… protection payments? Left all mad and stuff. Said they would get paid or get payback.”

He was so shocked that the kid had given an answer with more than a few words in it that his brain buzzed right past the information he was given and he had to backtrack to actually process it.

And, when he did, his fists clenched.

“Did they mention any names?” He asked quietly, fighting to keep his voice level. This was still a kid who needs help, he couldn’t allow his anger to mess that up.

“Zucco.”

Adrien filed that information away for later and then gave the kid a once-over. They were no longer staring at the door, instead just fidgeting under their blanket. It was good that they were coming out of shock, but he doubted that Dick would see it that way. The numbness would be wearing off soon, and the feelings that would come to take its place would be painful.

He did the only thing he could think of: try and distract the kid. Good to see he’s passing on the unhealthy coping mechanisms.

“Hey, are you going to stay in the circus?”

“Can I?” Said Dick. He didn’t seem all that excited, just confused. As if he hadn’t thought that an option.

Adrien shrugged. “I mean, there’s that whole thing about ‘running away and joining the circus’. Even if they force you into an orphanage, you can probably just come back here.”

“I hear orphanages suck.”

True. He doubted that Dick would get the mental health treatment he needed (if he got any at all) and the money at those kinds of places were always stretched thin, especially in Gotham. He didn’t like the idea of sending the kid there, but what other choices did he have?

Before he could really think of an answer a hand clapped itself over his shoulder.

He barely even looked back. He knew who it was going to be. He fought back a groan.

“Ross,” he said, the smile on his face becoming more strained. He wasn’t going to fight in front of Dick, the kid was already stressed enough. “Nice to see you again.”

The cop didn’t seem all that concerned about niceties, his grip tightening on Adrien’s shoulder. “Get away from my witness.”

“He has a name. And he doesn’t know anything. Leave him alone.”

Dick frowned. “But I --.”

Marinette popped up out of nowhere, arms crossed over her chest as she openly glared at the officer. “You guys should keep better track of the evidence you actually do have, someone might take it.”

Officer Ross went pale and then ran to his partner to ask where the evidence was.

Adrien was also pale, though for different reasons. This kid didn’t know that the police were corrupt and that telling them anything would likely end in him getting killed? He couldn’t let that happen. Where could he keep him that they wouldn’t check? An orphanage or the circus wouldn’t work, those would be the first places they’d go…

He brought a smile to his face as he carefully leaned towards the kid. To his delight, he didn’t flinch or lean away. Progress!

“Hey, I’ve got some friends that I think I can give you to. Good people. They’ll take care of you until we can find something more permanent, sound good?”

Dick looked a little skeptical but he nodded.

Adrien carefully scooped the kid up in his arms and looked at his wife. “I’m going to take him, you can go home for the night and relax.” He sent her a discreet wink.

She smiled faintly and gave Dick a tiny wave before slipping out of the tent.

Good. She’d understood.

~

She had definitely not understood.

You see, winks are ambiguous.

Adrien’s wink had meant ‘Get home and brush up on your acting skills because we need to sell this’.

She had thought his wink had meant ‘It’s our anniversary and we shouldn’t be working anyways. Go ahead and head home, we’ve already done too much and I want to relax with my darling wife’.

So, when she’d gotten home she’d detransformed and slipped into some comfy pajamas and plopped herself down on the couch to watch some TV.

And then the door had opened.

She’d smiled and poked her head up. “Back already? That was quick --.”

Adrien was still holding Dick to himself.

Tikki gave a quiet gasp of surprise and zipped between the couch cushions.

Her husband smiled. “Hey, can I cash in a favor?”

Marinette opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, and then pursed her lips tightly. She couldn’t exactly say ‘no’, because now that she thought about it they really didn’t have any other options (kids have a tendency to have no filter and this one seemed to lack any common sense at all if she was judging by his outfit)...

Didn’t mean she couldn’t be bitter. They should have had more of a conversation about this than a wink, and she was going to tell him that:

“I don’t know, Chat, my husband isn’t here right now. This is the kind of thing you’re supposed to discuss with your partner.”

Adrien winced almost imperceptibly and had the decency to look sheepish. “I’m sure he’d be fine with it. Please, I have nowhere else I can take him.”

She bit her lip and looked at the kid, then squeezed her eyes shut.

There was a more selfish reason that they both wanted to do this…

They wanted kids. It had just never really been an option for them. If she wanted to get pregnant, she would pretty much have to give up crime-fighting for those nine months (and possibly permanently, that stuff has long-term effects). They couldn’t really bring themselves to adopt, either, because their lives were hectic and every single book in the world says that adoptees need a stable home.

She couldn’t let their wishes cloud their judgment. She was supposed to be the rational one. They would certainly mess this kid up, taking him wasn’t an option…

But leaving him wasn’t an option…

And it was kind of like the universe was dropping Dick into their laps…

Dick started to sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe his eyes. Damn. She’d taken too long and now he felt rejected.

Her heart clenched. The kid didn’t deserve this...

“I… we can take him… but only temporarily. We need to find a better home for him eventually.”

It was best that none of them got their hopes up. This wasn’t a good solution, just the only one they could think of at the moment. At some point they’d think of a better one, and they’d have to do that.

Adrien and Dick both nodded.

Marinette slowly walked over and leaned down slightly to be at the kid’s eye level. “I’m Marinette Agreste. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Richard. You can call me Dick, though.”

Listen. She wasn’t proud of what she’d said. But she’d never heard it before -- she was far less social than Adrien was -- and, really, how do you get the name ‘Dick’ from ‘Richard’?

“I don’t think you understand how much I cannot do that.”

Adrien had had to set Dick down, he was laughing so hard.

~

When he came home (as Adrien, this time), he was surprised to see Marinette stress baking.

He wasn’t sure why he was surprised, adopting a child is a stressful situation even if you had been expecting it. And they definitely had not been expecting it.

He watched her bake for a moment in the doorway.

She clicked her tongue. “Are you just going to watch me bake or are you going to come inside? Or do I have to make a ‘look what the cat dragged in’ joke everytime I see you, now?”

He smiled and took a seat on the counter. “What’re you making?”

“Cookies.” She turned around for some flour and then sent him a half-hearted glare when she saw him sitting next to it. “I was using that counter.”

“Unfortunate.”

Marinette clicked her tongue again and then moved to another spot. “When...” She grimaced a little. “When… the kid wakes up from a nightmare -- because there’s no way that he wouldn’t have one after tonight -- I’d like to at least have something sweet ready for him. I know we’re not his parents or whatever, but he should at least feel welcome while he’s here.”

He sobered a little, pulling a knee to his chest. “The whole vigilante thing… we’re going to have to put it on hold for a little while, you know…”

“There’s no way we can properly take care of a kid and be Chat Noir and Ladybug. Or, at least, we’d need to make some changes.” She procured a whisk out of seemingly nowhere and started whisking the batter.

He raised his eyebrows. “Changes?”

“We could take shifts. I’d take night shifts as Ladybug and day shifts parenting the kid. You do the opposite.”

“We’d burn out,” said Adrien with a sigh.

“Well, what are we supposed to do? Give the city over to Superman? Guy is shady enough as it is.”

He rolled his eyes. “He’s not shady, you just can’t handle people being nice to you.”

“MY POINT IS that we can’t just stop protecting the city. Especially not if the mob is going after circuses of all things.”

“Yeah, why are they doing that? Is there really money from circuses? Aren’t they all going out of fashion because of that whole ‘animal abuse’ thing most of them have going on?”

“As they should,” she murmured. She finished whisking and started searching for something in the drawers. She procured a scoop and started making rows of cookies. “But, probably, smuggling. No one bats an eye when circuses cross borders, that’s kind of their whole thing.”

He nodded slowly. “Fair enough. Still seems like a hassle, especially now that they’re probably going to be more heavily regulated because those people died.”

“Well, hopefully their sacrifice won’t be in vain. The bit of trapeze wire I stole from the police might give us some leads on the guy’s pseuds.”

“Are you calling up Nygma?”

She shrugged and set the cookies in the oven. “Kinda. He hasn’t done anything in three months, so he’s due any day now. I’ll talk to him about it after saving whoever he captured this time… unless you want to talk to him instead?”

He grinned. “No, I could never go instead of you. You like making fun of his outfit too much.”

“Awwww, thanks, Chaton,” she cooed. She took a seat next to him and pressed a short kiss to his lips. “You know me so well.”

“Well, we’ve been partners for fifteen years. You’d hope I’d know you by now.”

She smiled faintly and leaned into him. She watched the timer tick down for a little while in silence, biting her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

“I mean, even if the trapeze was sabotaged, what are the chances that the acid is something special that we can trace to him? One of us is going to have to go undercover.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And leave Dick alone?”

“There’s no way Zucco is only going after this one place. We can’t take back what’s happened to him, but we can at least make sure he’s the only one to have to go through this.”

Adrien frowned. She was right, though he hated it. While they had given themselves the obligation of taking care of Dick, they couldn’t just drop everything for him. Especially considering their jobs.

“Okay, M’lady, what’s the plan?”

“Well, I hear that the circus is looking for new trapeze artists.”

~

She smiled as she set the last of the cookies in the Tupperware and started heading towards Dick’s new room.

Her conversation with Adrien had gone a lot better than she was expecting, honestly. She’d explained her reasoning for why it would be safe now and he’d, however reluctantly, agreed that she’d made sense.

She decided she’d wait a few days for everything to end up in the news properly before asking to join the circus. After all, it would be suspicious if she called just a few hours after a tragedy.

She stopped outside the former guest room and considered knocking… and then decided she’d better not. On the off chance that Dick wasn’t having a nightmare, she didn’t want to wake him.

She pressed the door open and then stopped cold when she saw that the kid was crying.

Marinette glanced behind her, wondering if she could get away with just walking past and acting like she was going to the bathroom or something. She wasn’t good with emotions, not with people close to her. Random people on the street were fine, people she’d never have to interact with again were fine, but this…

She was not nearly as good as Adrien… but Adrien was asleep, the fucker...

“Miss Marinette?” Said the kid.

She winced mentally and reached along the wall for the light. “Yes, sweetie, it’s me.”

The light flicked on and she saw Dick duck his head so his hair would hide his face.

“I brought cookies,” she said awkwardly as she walked over and took a seat on the edge of his bed. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I just went with chocolate chip.”

He nodded slightly and mumbled his thanks as he took the Tupperware from her.

She bit her lip as he nibbled at her cookies, and then couldn’t help but smile at the way his posture relaxed a little.

“These are good.”

“My parents were bakers. I’d have been disowned if I couldn’t make chocolate chip cookies.”

He cracked the tiniest of smiles.

She floundered again in the new silence. There’s a difference between comfortable silences and awkward ones and this was definitely feeling more on the awkward side.

“I could teach you to bake, if you’d like. I doubt you had time to learn on the road.”

He hesitated. “I’d burn the place down.”

“That’s okay. If I could teach Adrien to cook then there’s hope for anyone.”

She had not, in fact, been able to teach Adrien to cook. He had set the entire kitchen on fire in what they now called The Brownie Incident… but Dick didn’t need to know that.

He smiled a little more and leaned back against the bed frame, still eating cookies. He had to be on his third one by now. She wasn’t going to call him out on it, though.

She glanced him over. He was no longer really hiding his face, and the tears had stopped sliding down his cheeks. He seemed content. She didn’t want to drag any feelings back, but...

“Would you like to talk about your nightmare?” She asked quietly.

“No.”

She winced internally. “Okay. Would you like me to leave?”

“No.”

Marinette let a little bit of surprise show on her face for just a second before slowly scooting over to lay next to him. She took a cookie he offered her and closed her eyes, relaxing a little.

“Are you going to sleep again?”

“No.”

“That’s okay. Do you want that baking lesson now?”

Dick giggled a little. “But we already have cookies…”

“Well, we don’t have any cakes, now, do we? Or brownies. And there’s other types of cookies!”

She peeked an eye open and couldn’t help but smile a little at the grin on the kid’s face at the mention of all the possibilities.

Then he gave her a suspicious look. “Are you trying to fatten me up like an evil witch?”

“Yes,” she said gravely. “I adopt little circus kids and fatten them up to eat. The entire house is actually made of candy.”

To her surprise and slight horror, he actually brought the corner of his blanket to his mouth. Then he spat it out. “Liar!”

“I…” She trailed off. She didn’t know how to respond to that. Moving on. “So, about that baking thing, how do brownies sound?”

He grabbed her by the sleeve of her pajama shirt and pulled her out into the halls with a bright smile. She had to do a half-jog to keep up with him.

“Shhhh, Mister Adrien is asleep!” He stage-whispered.

She scoffed. “Me?! You’re the one running!”

“Shhhhhhhhh!”

Marinette clicked her tongue once and allowed him to pull her into a full on jog as they raced through the house. Really, it was a testament to how tired he was that Adrien didn’t wake up.

She grinned and offered him a hand to get up on the counter, and then was reminded of the fact that he was a literal trapeze artist as he vaulted off of her hand and jumped over her head to get to it.

She whispered a quiet “holy shit” in English, then covered her mouth with her hand. She and Adrien had a sort of unspoken rule that you can only curse in English, it’s just a weird thing that bilingual households do where cursing in the second language just doesn’t count, but now this was an actual kid who spoke (as far as she was aware) only English. She can’t teach him curse words!

But he didn’t seem to hear it, instead smiling as he reached towards the sink and started cleaning his hands.

She washed her hands after him and then started pulling down things to make brownies. Should she do chocolate chips or just cocoa powder…?

She remembered The Brownie Incident.

She shivered.

Cocoa powder. Definitely cocoa powder.

She put some butter in the microwave.

“What does ‘holy shit’ mean?”

She wheezed. “Uh-- I-- um--.”

“I’m just messing with you. I already know.”

Oh thank fuck.

Well, maybe not. She was kind of glad that he was feeling comfortable enough to joke around with her, but… the idea of him secretly being a little shit, while not necessarily surprising, was a bit worrying.

“Okay… good? Just… don’t swear in front of Adrien. I don’t really care, but if he hears you he might think I taught you… so it’s just our little secret, okay?”

He smiled and made a zipping motion across his lips. She copied the motion.

Aw, she’d almost forgotten how cute kids were when they weren’t in dangerous or sad situations.

The microwave beeped and she hummed as she combined the butter, cocoa, and sugar. She stirred a bit and then handed Dick the eggs.

“Here, you can crack three of them into the bowl. Do you know how to do that?”

He huffed. “Yes!”

He, in fact, did not know how to do that.

She watched in open-mouthed horror as he attempted to just pull the egg open without cracking it.

“N… no, sweetie. You need to break it on the counter, first.”

He nodded and then slammed the egg on the counter.

Marinette wiped some egg off of the front of her shirt and then took a few breaths to steady herself. Now that the shock had worn off, she was very tempted to laugh and she was not going to do that to this poor, confused kid.

“I think I did it wrong.”

She snickered and then coughed to cover it up. “I… yes. I’ll show you how to do it.”

He gave a tiny smile as she took his hand and taught him how to crack an egg. He repeated the process with the other two eggs and she worked at cleaning up the mess he’d made.

… how the fuck was there egg on the wall? That was a good seven feet away from the island they were cooking on. Sure, he had to be strong to be an acrobat, but what the fuck?

She sighed and set the napkin done now that he was done and smiled as she added the vanilla, salt, and flour.

She handed him a spatula.

“Stir. Go wild, kid,” she said, 

Big mistake.

Dick took her words to heart, and she watched as he stirred madly, batter flying everywhere.

She laughed, only to get splashed with the batter.

She managed to stop his hand and sent him a tiny glare.

“I'm starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Whaaaat? No.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, and then gasped when he lobbed a tiny bit of batter at her shirt.

“Oops,” he said, giving her a feral grin.

Marinette couldn’t help but smile back… then she reached past him and grabbed a handful of flour. She flicked her fingers and smiled when it got on his face.

He pouted and started rubbing his eyes. “Ow…”

Panic.

“Oh, sorry, did I get it in your eyes?” She leaned down. “Let me see.”

He nodded and slowly brought his hands away from his face and she checked his eyes with her fingers carefully --.

Only to feel an egg smash itself on top of her head.

She wiped some egg from her face and narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll get you for that one, you traitor!”

He squealed and set the batter down, then did a backroll away from her.

Marinette and Dick grabbed their weapons…

An hour later, they were both breathing heavily.

“Truce?” She said, lowering her flour-covered arm.

He nodded slowly… and then threw an egg at her.

She dodged it easily and glared at him, her hand already reaching for her flour again —.

“Now truce! Now truce.”

She hesitated, then clicked her tongue as she let herself relax.

They looked around the mess that was the kitchen... at the batter still somehow untouched on the counter… the oven, which hadn’t even been preheated yet…

“Do you just want to eat the batter?”

“Let me get some spoons.”

A few hours later, Adrien walked in… only to stop short when he saw his wife and new kid there, covered in cooking ingredients. Dick had fallen asleep with his head on her shoulder. She was fine with this, there was still some batter left.

“Um…?”

“Brownies are cursed,” she told him, then she took another spoonful.

“What?” Said a bewildered and still half-asleep Adrien.

She looked her husband dead in the eye as she pulled the spoon from her mouth with a tiny ‘pop’.

“Brownies are cursed.”

~

Adrien felt bad homeschooling the kid.

Really, it had brought him a lot of grief growing up. He hadn’t known anyone besides Chloe and Kagami until he was twelve years old.

But, as it turned out, Dick really needed to be homeschooled.

On top of just… having no formal education whatsoever and his general knowledge being a toss of the dice, it was also the middle of the school year and everyone knows you can’t just dump new kids into a class halfway through.

Adrien tipped his head back against his chair and closed his eyes.

Dick was taking a test to see what he had to teach him, but he wasn’t concerned about the kid cheating. What was he going to do? Sneak away, grab a textbook, and start flipping through it without him noticing?

He sighed.

The kid was… weird.

He was always smiling, always in motion, always affectionate. It was something they’d figured out quickly, but it had taken longer to notice that he was only like that when he was talking about things he actually wanted to. If they asked how he was doing, because it had only really been a week since it had happened, he would clam up and start semi-subtly shifting the conversation away.

He was avoiding his problems. And Marinette and Adrien really didn’t know what to do. He had stolen their unhealthy coping mechanism and now they were forced to stand back and watch as the kid destroyed himself the same way they did. And they knew it was a terrible coping mechanism, even Dick might have known it, but what were they supposed to do? They had been around much longer and they hadn’t found a better mechanism, what could they do for Dick?

He peeked an eye open and looked at the kid, who was chewing on the end of his pen as he thought through the question he was on.

… damn, he was actually going to have to learn how to cope, huh?

So, that afternoon, he passed Dick off to Marinette like a baton in a relay race and took a bus to the bookstore.

The psychology section was huge and filled to the brim with case studies. It was honestly daunting to look at. Instead, he made his way to the clerk.

The woman looked him up and down once. “Rough week?”

“You have no idea,” he muttered. “Can I have some recommendations for books on adoption, parenting, and coping with trauma? And also a highlighter, that would probably help.”

He skimmed through the parenting and adoption books. He and Marinette had already done this a few years back when they had first been considering kids, he was mostly just getting a refresher.

And then he turned to the five books on coping mechanisms he’d bought.

He took a deep breath and started looking methodically reading his way through it, highlighter in hand.

The next day, he found Dick, who was drumming his fingers on the table as he glared at the textbook in front of him.

Adrien had some suspicions about the kid in front of him, though he wasn’t absolutely sure yet. Still, he figured he should test his theory.

Besides, it would also help keep the kid safe and physical activity was one of the things a book on coping mechanisms had suggested.

Multi-tasking!

Or maybe it was just efficiency…

Whatever!

He smiled. “Hey, kid, want to try something different for today’s lesson?”

Dick looked up, frowning. “Like what?”

“Well… how do you feel about learning self-defense?”

~

“Where are you going?” Asked Dick with a tiny frown as she started bustling around the living room in search of her shoes.

“Uh… work!” She said.

They’d both agreed that telling Dick that she was going to go do the exact job his parents had just died in was a terrible idea, so they’d thought up a cover story… too bad she couldn’t think of it at the moment. She finally saw her shoes tucked under the couch and dove down to grab them, then sent her kid a smile.

“Have a good day, sweetie, I’ll see you later,” she said, walking over and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

She ducked out the door and started running all over again. Her eyes found their way to her watch. It was a tryout and she was going to be late…

But she wasn’t.

Barely.

She stumbled inside with one minute to spare, panting, and it took everything in her not to slump over the nearest bench and die.

“Hi,” she wheezed at Haly, who raised his eyebrows slightly at her.

“You’re really cutting it close, here. Have anything to say for yourself?”

She rested a hand over her heart as if that would somehow bring it back to normal. “I need a fucking car.”

Haly paused, then nodded. “That explains that. I’ll let you off with a warning that you should try not to be late again.”

“Oka --.” She stopped, and then looked at him. “I got the job?”

He shrugged and pointed around at the empty tent. “You’re the only one here.”

Wow. She’d suspected that people would be less than eager to take the job offer, but to be the only person…

Well, she figured that she should just be thankful. That made things much easier.

She smiled faintly. “Cool. Should I still show you my skills and everything?”

He motioned to the trapeze. There was a net under it. The man had learned his lesson, at least. “Please.”

It turns out that being Ladybug is really helpful when you want to be a trapeze artist.

Actually, she found that being a trapeze artist was actually easier in some ways. Instead of having to hold tight to one thin string when swinging around, she was able to get a proper grip on a bar.

It was a lot of fun. Recently, she’d been using her cane more. Having a yoyo was impractical as a weapon when people were firing guns, so she’d more or less stopped using it. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel the wind in her hair. It was calming...

Also, she got to show off, which was always fun.

She stopped after a few minor tricks and gave a bow to Haly, who seemed to just be glad that she actually had an idea of what she was doing.

“You’ll need about a month of training before you do any shows. Do you have any other expertise?”

She shook her head. It was a lie, she would probably be good with aerial silks or contortionism, but she felt some weird need to do the trapeze…

Just then, her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it and read the news headline.

She groaned and turned to Haly. “Can I have a minute? I need to take this.”

The man nodded.

She scowled as she stepped out and dialled a number.

“NYGMA.”

“Ladybug!” Riddler said cheerfully. She could hear a woman sobbing in the background. “What’s up? Did you see the news?”

“Yes, I saw. I’m at a job interview!”

The smile in the man’s voice disappeared as he spoke next: “Oh, I’m sorry. I can reschedule the death trap.”

“YOU CAN, CAN YOU?”

“Yep! How does tomorrow sound?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to relax. “I can do tomorrow. Thank you. And let go of the poor lady, will you?”

“Fiiiiine.”

She hung up on him and then stepped back inside, giving Haly her brightest smile.

“I can start working in two days, if that sounds good to you.”

~

Adrien hesitated.

Really, he should be getting Marinette to train Dick on self-defense. They had similar movement styles…

But his hunch had been right. This kid seemed to learn a lot better when he was multitasking and, as much as he loved his wife, he didn’t think her English was good enough to teach someone else.

And, besides, he wanted to spend time with his kid, dang it!

He stopped Dick before he could throw another punch at the dummy to fix his form. “I know putting power into it is hard when you’re so little, but you need to rotate your hips so you can get at least some kind of force behind it.”

The kid pouted. “But this is so boooooooring. It’s just the same thing over and over again! I want to do cool stuff!”

“Not yet. You have to understand the basics before you start messing with it.”

Dick gave another pout, this time adding puppy-dog eyes, but, unfortunately for him, Adrien had never been fond of dogs. He raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

The kid groaned and started punching the pads again.

“I before E, except after C, or when sounding like A, as in neighbor and…”

~

It didn’t take long for Marinette to notice The Guy.

She had a pretty good vantage point from the ladder to her trapeze. She would stop at the top, her hands up in a salute, and pause for ‘dramatic effect’.

Her eyes flicked over the crowd and locked on the face of The Guy.

He was at every show, his face pulled into a bored frown as he rested his head on his hand. He’d sit there the whole time, watching the same performance over and over again, and then leave the moment the show was over.

She pursed her lips for half a second before bringing her face back to its smile.

She’d brought a camera this time. This time she’d be able to get his face so she and Adrien could get information on him.

But, for now, she concentrated on making the first jump to the trapeze…

She sat down after her act, still breathing heavily. She was in shape… but, kwami, that kind of stuff is hard! Still, she couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t been challenged in a while. It was kind of fun.

She wondered, vaguely, if this was what she’d be doing if she hadn’t gone back into crime fighting.

Marinette pushed that thought from her head as she downed her water. It wasn’t the time. She only had a few more minutes before she was on again for the outro. She needed the picture now.

She grabbed her camera from her locker and snuck her way to the stands, and pointed her camera --.

The Guy had spotted her. He looked directly at her camera, his face set in an even deeper frown than usual.

She quickly snapped the picture, then darted back behind the curtain. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Shit! Shitshitshit --!

Okay. Breathe.

He wasn’t going to just kill her. If the way they’d offed the Graysons was any indication, they didn’t want to draw too much attention to the circus. It was unfortunate what had happened, but not suspicious. However, the trapeze was new and there was a net. An accident like that couldn’t happen again.

No, they’d probably wait until after the show. That would be fine. She could deal with that. At least then she could stall until she had energy by waiting with someone.

She felt a hand tap her shoulder and looked over at the contortionist. “Time?”

“Time,” he said simply.

She hid the camera and ran out with him, smiling like she wasn’t about to face off with a mobster.

Two hours later, she stepped into her train car and crossed her arms over her chest. “Right, I know you’re in here,” she said quietly.

Or, at least, she hoped so. Because otherwise she would be looking a little silly --.

Wait, a knife pressed to her neck. Maybe she wished she was wrong.

She clicked her tongue and leaned into her attacker, closing her eyes. “You Americans still say ‘yo’, right?”

The Guy tensed a little under her, and then whispered a confused, “No…?”

She huffed. “Damn. Why do you change your greetings so often? Whatever. Kaalki, a little help would be nice.”

“Who --?” Began The Guy, but he was quickly cut off.

Because a portal opened under them and dumped them into a back alley in Gotham.

Marinette grinned and grabbed his arm, using his confusion to lean forward and flip him over her shoulder. He cursed as his back hit the ground and the blade clattered to the floor.

She grabbed it nonchalantly and her eyes flicked over the hilt.

A name was engraved there.

Zucco.

“You mob people make this too easy. Now, tell me everything you know.”

He glared up at her. “They’ll kill me!”

“And what gave you the impression that I wouldn’t?” She twirled the knife in her fingers. “Quickly, please, I have a kid to get back to.”

A half hour later, he had spilled everything he knew.

And his guts…

She rolled off of him and glanced at the bloodied dagger in her hand. Her nose scrunched up as she dropped it beside him. There. Now it looked like a mob hit.

She pushed herself to her feet and dusted herself off, only to groan at the sight of the blood staining her front.

She gave the corpse a kick as she cursed him out:

“Asshole. I liked these clothes!”

~

He smiled as he pulled his wife into his side.

Dick had finally gone to bed, so it was just them two. For once.

Marinette had a show in an hour that she needed to portal back for, and Adrien needed to go out as Chat Noir soon, but they didn’t want to get up just yet.

She yawned and curled closer to him. “I guess…” She yawned again. “I guess I should tell you what I found out. Which is basically nothing. Apparently, hardly anyone has ever seen Zucco in person, just the higher ups. He just sends people to do his bidding.”

He groaned and buried his face in her hair. “Great. Did you at least give the sample to Nygma when you saw him yesterday?”

“Obviously.” Her watch beeped and she mumbled a curse. “Alright, I have to go.”

“Nooooooo.”

“Yeeees,” she said, gently pushing his chest until he let go. She stretched out a bit and then walked to the bedroom door.

It swung open before she even touched the knob.

Dick was standing in the doorway, hugging a Chat Noir doll to his chest. “I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you guys?”

Marinette glanced at her watch and then at the kid and then at her watch again.

“Or are you guys both going out again?”

Adrien winced. “You noticed that?”

“It’s, like, every night,” he said irritably. He sighed and wiped his eyes a little bit. “Fine. I’ll just go lay down again.”

She bit her lip and then leaned down to look him in the eyes. “I’ll be back in four hours, okay, sweetie? Can you handle that?”

Dick looked at the ground. “Sure.”

Marinette grimaced. “I’m sorry.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

They could hear the coatrack hit the ground in her hurry to grab her jacket and get out the door.

Adrien sighed and looked at Dick, who was still standing in the doorway.

He really should be going on patrol. The people of Gotham had begun to notice that Chat Noir and Ladybug had been showing up less frequently. Crime rates were rising…

He laid back in bed and opened his arms. “I won’t leave. Come here.”

Dick gave a tiny smile, though it seemed a little forced. Still, he got into bed and curled up in Adrien’s arms.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He tried.

“No.”

He sighed. “You’re going to have to talk about it, eventually. Avoiding it is just going to make it harder to deal with later.”

“Nope.”

He gave a tiny laugh. Dang. This kid really was just them but younger. Now all he needed was a miraculous and he’d be a perfect mini version of them…

“Where do you guys even go?” Asked Dick, his voice muffled in Adrien’s chest.

“Work,” he said after a few minutes’ deliberation.

“I thought you didn’t really have jobs.”

He laughed quietly. “Marinette has a million jobs, and I have my one. Though we don’t really get paid for what we do most of the time.”

“Why do you do it, then?”

Adrien raised his eyebrows slightly, then gave a tiny shrug. “Why did you do the trapeze?”

He’d meant for it to be a rhetorical question, meant for it to be something that would make Dick change the subject, so it was a complete surprise when the kid whispered: “It was all that I knew.”

Internally, he was screaming. It was happening! Finally! He had opened up a little bit!

Externally, he nodded and rubbed circles into the kid’s back. “Hopefully, we can make it so it’s not all you know. Help you branch out a little bit while you’re here.”

He felt tiny hands clutch the back of his shirt. “Can’t do that when you’re always gone.”

“I know,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

They stayed in silence for a long time. Adrien was pretty sure that Dick had fallen asleep, but he wasn’t going to move. The kid had noticed that they were gone often, but the two of them had always made sure to wait until he had fallen asleep to leave. He had to be waking up at least once a night, so…

He held the kid close to his chest.

A few hours later, the door creaked open.

Adrien opened an eye blearily and saw Marinette get into bed. He lifted an arm for Marinette to join the cuddle and smiled faintly when she actually did.

He let himself drift off.

~

A few days later, Marinette and Adrien came back from patrols to find Dick talking to the kwamis. All of them gave sounds of surprise when they saw the two vigilantes in the door and disappeared except for Trixx, who turned and fixed their purple eyes on them.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly for a second, considering what to say, and then decided on: “What the fuck, guys?”

Adrien removed his arm from around her waist so he could bury his face in his hands.

Trixx smiled. “It’s not what it looks like. He found us.”

“He…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “So… you’re telling me that this kid pushed our bed aside, pulled up the exact right floorboard, and pulled out the miracle box...”

“... yes.”

“Forgive me for being skeptical, but I’m not buying it.”

Dick pouted and hugged the tiny fox to his chest. “Are you mad at her?”

Marinette hesitated.

Before Dick had known about the kwamis, they had a chance of giving him back. They would have been able to find better parents for him, been able to give him a genuinely good life. But now… they couldn’t risk giving him up. The reason they’d taken him in in the first place was that he was relatively loose-lipped. Now that he knew something so important, there was no way in hell that they could risk him ever telling anyone.

Of course, she doubted they would have been able to give up Dick anyways. She’d grown annoyingly attached to the kid, he was sweet and generally made her life a little more fun, but now there wasn’t an option at all.

Still, this part of their lives… beyond needing to keep things a secret, it was extremely dangerous to involve a kid in this kind of thing.

Adrien answered first: “No, we’re not mad. Just… this wasn’t exactly the plan.”

“And what was the plan? Never telling me that we have a bunch of… what did they call themselves? Kwamis? Whatever, they’re gods. There are just gods living in our house!”

Marinette shrugged. “We weren’t telling you because we didn’t want you to get dragged into this part of our lives, sweetie.”

Dick huffed. “And are there any other secrets that I should know about?”

“They’re Ladybug and Chat Noir,” supplied Trixx.

“TRIXX?!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE CHAT NOIR AND LADYBUG?!”

The fox kwami laughed and disappeared.

Marinette scowled. “I know you’re still here, Trixx, where are you? I will hunt you.”

“Please, Mari, you don’t need to do that. Just get the fox miraculous and summon her here, it’s much easier.”

“Smart.”

“WHY HAVE YOU STILL NOT DENIED IT?!”

Marinette and Adrien looked at each other awkwardly.

Well… the secret was out.

She opened her purse and he opened his jacket, and their kwamis slowly poked their heads out to look at Dick.

Poor kid was not prepared.

He covered his eyes with his hands and took a few deep breaths. “So… I… wow…”

Well, she supposed there could be worse reactions.

“Wait, so are you investigating what happened with my parents?”

Like that. That was a worse reaction. Fuck.

Marinette carefully took a seat on the floor by her kid. Adrien sat down as well.

“We’re working on it,” she said carefully. “I’m following a lead and I got help from a… an associate of ours.”

Adrien nodded. “It will take a while. It’s just the two of us -- and Nygma, I guess -- so it’s not going to be done quickly.”

Dick removed his hands from his eyes and looked at them both. “I want to help.”

“No,” said both adults instantly.

“But --.”

“Nope,” said Marinette.

“I --.”

Adrien held up his hands. “Not allowed.”

Dick pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not? They’re my parents.”

Marinette shook her head slowly. “It has nothing to do with that. You’re a kid, we can’t just let you fight crime.”

“Oh? And when did you start fighting crime?”

“Eighteen,” said Marinette, which technically wasn’t a lie…

Which means it was unfortunate that Adrien gave a more accurate answer: “I was twelve, she was thirteen.”

She groaned and rested her head in her hands. “Damn it, Adrien.”

“So, when I’m twelve, can I join you guys?”

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. She didn’t want to be a hypocrite, but she also didn’t want to let an actual kid fight crime. She had fought crime as a kid, it had messed her up. She wasn’t eager to pass that on to someone else…

But…

“Fine. How about this: if we don’t solve it by the time you’re twelve you can join us for that case specifically.”

Dick pouted a little, but seemed to understand. “Okay.”

She and Adrien met eyes. They had three years to solve this case before Dick would get involved, and they couldn’t let that happen.

But it was three years.

How hard could it be?

~

He and Marinette sat on the floor in front of the miracle box, sorting the miraculi into two different piles: ‘Will Protect’ and ‘Can’t Protect’.

Once that was done, they started sifting through the ‘Will Protect’ pile.

“Turtle?” Marinette said.

Adrien shook his head. “Doesn’t fit his fighting style. Bee?”

She shuddered. “Don’t need another Chloe. Snake?”

They tipped their heads from side to side as they considered it, but then Trixx piped up: “I’m right here, y’know.”

The two vigilantes jumped out of their skin. Then they glared at the kwami.

“Must you always sneak up on us?”

“Yes. Anyways, I’m the best fit for the kid and you know it.”

Marinette pursed her lips. Adrien raised his eyebrows.

It was true. From the moment they’d started considering giving Dick a miraculous (because, even if they doubted he was ever going to get to that point, they figured they should at least make sure he was safe), they’d both been eyeing the fox miraculous…

Thing was…

“You’re just going to tell him more of our secrets,” he complained, sighing.

Trixx crossed their paws over their chest. “Do you really have any other secrets you care about?”

They considered this for a minute, before Marinette clicked her tongue.

“Fine. Fine! Adrien, you’ll need to train him on his powers, your secondary powers are closer than mine. I’ll take up sparring to teach him a fight style that better matches his circus training.”

Adrien pouted and fell back until his head hit her lap. “You don’t think I was teaching him well enough? Because our fight styles and training were completely different? I’m wounded, M’lady. I’ll never recover.”

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He smiled. “I’ve been cured.”

She clicked her tongue.

Adrien smiled…

And then her watch beeped. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her stomach. “Nooooo, don’t gooooooooooo.”

“I can’t just not go, Chaton.”

“Why nooooot? It would be so easy.”

She slowly peeled his arms off of her, smiling fondly. “Relax. I’ll be back later. Hang out with… with Di --... Nope. With the kid. Maybe train him a little in his powers or whatever.”

He laid on the floor with a pout as he watched her leave, and then looked down at the necklace in his hands.

Well, he supposed he might as well. What else could he do? Protect the city? Nah.

He walked to his kid’s room and rolled his eyes when he saw the kid standing with his ear pressed to the wall.

“Hello?”

Dick’s face reddened and he turned to Adrien with a bright smile. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Wow, he really was a good fit for Trixx.

He sighed and offered the necklace. “You’re not in trouble. C’mon, we’re going to teach you to use these powers.”

Trixx floated over to rest on Dick’s shoulder and Adrien waved him along to the training room.

Adrien held up a hand before walking to the window and quickly shutting the curtains.

He smiled as the kid transformed.

Adrien stretched lazily. “Right, on your back right now is a flute. It… works like a flute. You can play music with it if you want, and also hit people with it if you want. It also summons your power.”

Dick nodded and pulled it off his back. “What can I do?”

“You play a note and envision an illusion of some sort. The limit is just your imagination.”

“Like a Green Lantern?”

“I… kind of. You just have illusions, if you touch them they disappear.”

“That sucks.”

“I guess. Alright, so you’re probably going to have side-effects.”

He watched the kid’s eyes widen and rushed to explain: “It usually isn’t bad. Just weird. It’s why I like to sit on counters and why Mari’s always so cold. It also changes looks a little. Like… Mari has a lot more white in her eyes and my hair has those two little tufts that I have to gel down.”

Dick’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay. So… powers.”

“Yep.”

He pulled out his flute.

Adrien smiled. “Right, let’s start simple. The main thing you need is a clear vision. I’m going to close my eyes and you’re going to make something appear in the room. If you’re doing it right then it should appear real, if not then we’ll figure out what’s going wrong.”

He closed his eyes and waited for a few seconds after he heard the shrill note of the flute. Then he opened his eyes.

And came face to face with a giant, bright pink inflatable elephant.

“I…”

Dick grinned. “Think we should address the elephant in the room?”

He blinked once, then broke into a matching grin. “You’re what’s been missing from my life. Oh my kwami. That was beautiful.”

Then he actually went to inspect the elephant. It was pretty good. The lighting was a little off but it wasn’t plainly obvious it was fake, if he wasn’t paying attention he doubted he would’ve noticed. That made sense. Powers were usually pretty instinctual.

He nodded slowly. “Now try something that makes sound.”

Dick brought the flute to his lips and played another note.

He had expected the elephant to disappear and get replaced by something. Instead, it let out a high whine as the air in it slipped out of a new gash on its side.

Adrien smiled.

“Nice.” He sighed and let his smile lessen. Now for the reason they had thought the fox miraculous could be used for protection: “Okay. Make yourself disappear.”

He got a frown for that one. “Sorry?”

“It’s… you’re still a kid. You need to know how to cloak yourself so you don’t get hurt. We can’t really stop you from coming with us in an ethical way, but we need to at least make sure you’ll be okay if you come along.”

Dick frowned. “I thought you were going to let me help.”

“In three years. If we haven’t already solved this case yet. And if we think that you’re going to be able to handle it.”

“But --.”

“We were heroes at a young age. True. We weren’t ready for it, though, and we don’t want to screw up a kid in the same way we were screwed up. That’s the whole thing about having kids, we want you to have a better life than we did.”

The kid gave an annoyed expression before bringing his flute to his lips. With a shrill note, the annoyed face disappeared.

Adrien tipped his head from side to side as he considered this. He was pretty sure that he could sense something off, but he wasn’t sure if that was just his mind messing with him because he knew that Dick was there…

He walked towards where he’d last seen him to make sure and then stopped short when he realized what was off. His feet weren’t making any sound.

There wasn’t any sound at all, actually.

“You’ve done too much. You got rid of all sound, not just your own.”

Dick appeared, a grin on his face.

“This is boring. Can we make it into a game? Like hide-n-seek?”

Adrien hesitated, then shrugged. “Don’t see why not.” He brought his hands up to cover his eyes. “Thirty… twenty-nine…”

~

She hummed absently as she and Dick stretched to warm up.

She was a little jealous, if she was honest, he was way more flexible than she was even though he was out of practice and she wasn’t. She’d been stretching before this kid was even born. How dare he still be more flexible than her.

Still, she rolled to her feet and offered him a hand up.

Dick’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and he did a backhandspring from the floor.

How the fuck?

But she wasn’t going to act like this was an amazing thing. She was already bitter enough about his flexibility, admitting that he was also better at gymnastics would be even worse.

Instead, she grinned. “Hey, kid, what should we call you?”

He thought for a minute, taking his flute out and twirling it in his hand like a baton. “Robin?”

“I…” She held up a finger to say ‘one minute’ and then pulled out her phone. After a quick google search to make sure they were talking about the same animal, she gave her kid a confused look. “You’re a fox.”

“Yes.”

“Robins are birds.”

“Yes.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She really didn’t know why she asked a kid who called himself ‘Dick’ to name himself. Really, she should have expected this.

Marinette shrugged to herself. “Fine. I’m just gonna keep calling you ‘sweetie’.”

“Okay!” He stopped twirling his flute and pointed it at Marinette. “So, you’re going to teach me to use my circus training for fighting?”

She sighed and pulled out her cane, leaning against it. “Right. I’ll need to check to see how well you know the basics, first, though.”

Dick groaned. “I’m ready. I feel like I’ve been ready for ages!”

“I know, I know, but I need to make sure, okay?”

He gave her an annoyed look.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. “Okay. Fine.” She dropped her cane. “Spar with me.”

Dick’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yep. You’ll have first swing and I won't get a weapon.”

True to her word, she let him have the first swing. She dodged and grabbed his arm, then pressed her foot to the middle of his back. He hit the ground with a groan. She pulled the flute from his hand and sent him a tired glare.

“You got lucky,” said Dick, his voice muffled against the floor.

She pulled him back to his feet. “No, you’re a child and I’ve been fighting for years. Like pretty much everyone else you’re going to fight. Which means that we can’t rush your training, okay? You have years before we let you into the field, if we do, so…”

He brushed himself off with a bitter expression.

“Fine. We drill basics.”

~

Riddler grinned, spinning around in his chair.

“Ladybug and Chat Noi --.” He stopped short, his eyes widening as they spotted something behind them. “What the heck? You guys brought a kid to this?”

He glanced behind himself and cringed lightly. He reached out and gently pulled Dick behind himself a little. Nygma had never been one for random attacks, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to make sure that this kid was safe.

And why had they brought him?

Marinette clicked her tongue once in annoyance. “Hey, sweetie, show the nice man your powers for a second.”

Dick brought his flute to his lips. With one high note he was gone.

Yep. They were really regretting giving him that miraculous right about then. They hadn’t even realized that he was coming along until Adrien had missed a jump and realized that his bones hadn’t audibly cracked like they usually did when he messed up like that.

He reappeared with a fox-like grin playing across his thin lips.

(Or maybe they just thought it was fox-like because he was currently dressed as a fox. Who knows.)

Riddler considered this for a minute, then nodded. “I understand now.”

Adrien sighed. “Yep.”

Marinette pulled out her yoyo and summoned a coloring book and some crayons. Dick beamed and plopped down on the floor to color.

The parents smiled fondly at their kid and then turned to Riddler.

“Now, you have news?” Adrien said.

“Good news and bad news.”

The adults looked at each other and gave tiny shrugs.

“Good news first,” said Marinette.

“Good news is that there’s only one person who supplies that specific acid.”

Adrien’s eyebrows knit together. That sounded good, but…

“Bad news is that she’s pretty popular. Over two-hundred customers popular.”

Ah. There it was.

Marinette covered Dick’s ears so she could curse.

Adrien, however, shrugged. “Do you have a list of her customers?”

Riddler nodded slowly. “Of course. I’ll forward it to you guys.”

“Thanks for the help, Nygma. See you in a few months.” With that, Marinette picked up Dick and held him to her hip.

“I’ll get you with the next one!”

“Mhmm. Sure.”

Adrien gave an apologetic smile and a friendly wave as he hurried out after his wife.

~

Marinette hummed absently as she pulled her jacket on, then froze up when she heard a gun click behind her head.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

She pulled a smile to her face and held her hands up in a kind of surrender, then turned around.

Wow. This man looked exactly like how gangsters looked in movies. She probably would have laughed if he wasn’t pointing a gun at her.

And, even with the gun pointed at her, she had to suppress a smile.

“Who are you?” He asked.

She frowned. “Shouldn’t I be asking that of you, sir? You’re the one attacking the random trapeze artist.”

“You’ve killed every single man I’ve sent in here to make sure everything was going to plan.”

“Maybe you should’ve sent a woman. We apparently get the job done better.”

“Who. Are. You?”

“Marinette Agreste, but I’m sure you knew that. Otherwise you wouldn’t know that I’ve killed ‘every single man you’ve sent here’.”

He scowled. “That wasn’t what I was asking and you know it.”

“Do I? Maybe you should be clearer,” she said. “Or, you could just tell me your name and I promise I would be much more compliant.”

The man seemed to consider this for a minute, his face tinged red with annoyance. She tried to push down the twinge of satisfaction. Even if this wasn’t Zucco, he at least had to be pretty high up and was likely the person who had ordered the goons to kill Dick’s parents. This bitch deserved all the hell she gave him, in her not-so-humble opinion.

“Giovanni,” he said carefully.

She smiled. “See? Was that so hard? Now, who am I...? I don’t know. I sometimes fight people. What else is there to say?”

He didn’t seem amused. “Why are you killing all my men?”

“I wouldn’t have to if they didn’t notice me noticing them every time. It’s getting very annoying. Send less observant people.”

Her eyes caught Kaalki’s. The kwami was hiding in a duffel bag that had been left open and she gave a tiny shrug to say go.

The man gave a scream as a portal sliced his hand off.

Marinette hummed absently and leaned down to pick up the gun. She pried the hand off of the gun and tossed it aside.

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK --.”

“I know, I know, it hurts, but could you be quieter?” She rubbed the side of her head. “Right, I have a few questions about Zucco.”

“He’d kill m --.”

“Yes. Yes, he would. But maybe you should concern yourself less with him, who has already made up his mind about killing you, and more about me, who’s still mulling it over.”

An hour later she stepped out of the changing room, humming as she tossed the gun back over her shoulder lazily.

“Haly?” She yelled, and smiled when his head popped out from his train care.

He looked stunned for a moment before he pulled himself together. “Yes?”

“I’m quitting. It’s been fun, though!”

She bit her lip as she strode out into the night.

Well, if she wasn’t already on Zucco’s radar she definitely would be now.

Greeeeaaaat.

~

It’s hard to look into people when you’re on the run from the mob.

They’d done everything they could think of. Marinette had withdrawn everything from their accounts, Adrien had altered all their appearances, Dick had... come along.

And it turns out tracking down 237 people is hard or something. Who knew.

You have to:

Figure out whether or not the person you’re after has pseuds. In order to do this you have to track their income patterns. This requires pretty high tech stuff, which they were generally trying to avoid because of the whole ‘mob out to get them’ thing.

Then, if they do have pseuds, you have to find all their assets. Then you have to go and check every single safehouse to see if it is, in fact, Zucco or someone working for him. It’s not fun. Most people in the mob are trained to not tell secrets no matter what, and getting to the point where you can get that information is… time consuming.

And they didn’t have time.

They glared at the remaining names. Dick was turning twelve tomorrow. They hadn’t even realized it because time was getting fuzzy again, but then they had come home to him hanging upside down from one of the lights on the ceiling and chanting about how close his birthday was.

After checking to make sure their kid hadn’t somehow gotten high or drunk, because what the heck, they had flown into a panic about how much work they still had to do.

“What’re the ethics of killing all 92 people tonight?” She asked, leaning back against her husband as he clicked through files.

“Even if we could, I’d say it’s probably frowned upon.”

She groaned and closed her eyes, then opened them again to glare at the papers in front of her. “How much you wanna bet that the very first one we choose after the kid joins us is going to be the right one?”

“Knowing our luck? That’s definitely going to happen.”

She gave a bitter laugh before pushing herself back up. “I’m going to break into a bakery to make a cake.”

“Cupcakes. You know he’s going to want to spend the day out in the field looking for answers, we might as well have food we can travel with.”

She clicked her tongue but nodded.

He fell back on the bed and glared at the list. He should have said they started at eighteen...

~

Well, at least it hadn’t been the first person that they’d looked into with Dick.

It had been the second.

After… ‘interogating’ the guy they’d found, they’d been given the name of this cruise ship and where it often docked. Then Dick had given them all cover so they could sneak on undetected.

And now night had hit. The three of them sat, perched on a railing as they observed the goons below them.

She watched Adrien send a wave before disappearing to take out the captain and destroy anything that could be used to contact land.

She turned to the kid next to her and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Ready, sweetie?”

Dick gave a slightly nervous smile before pulling out his flute.

“You’re only allowed to get involved if I’m dying, remember?”

He nodded, though she got the feeling that the kid wasn’t listening. Or, rather, he was listening and just opting not to take the words to heart.

She clicked her tongue once. Then she began walking along the outer edges of the ship, Dick trailing along behind her. She twirled her yoyo absently. They needed to get to the private quarters, as she was pretty sure that Zucco wouldn’t be anywhere else (he sent people out to do all his work, there was no way he was doing any work on his ship).

Then she heard laughter.

She looked up and scowled at the three henchmen who were leaning over the side of the railing above them.

“Oh my god, Ladybug has a kid!”

Her yoyo came to a stop. “Hilarious, I know.”

“Kinda! I mean the most deadly vigilantes in the world have a little kid trailing around like a lost puppy! That’s so good!”

She pressed her lips together tightly. “Mhmm. Please, tell me more...”

“Gonna say ‘or else’? Or else what? You’re going to change our diapers?”

She nodded slowly, then turned to Dick. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. She opted to ignore the way the three roared with laughter above her at the action, instead concentrating on him.

“Sweetie, I want you to cover your eyes for a second, please. I’ll tell you when you can look again, okay?”

He nodded and brought his hands to his eyes.

She wheeled on the criminals, whose laughter was quickly dying.

“Oops,” said one of them, his voice so quiet she’d barely heard it.

But she did. And she fought off some laughter of her own. “‘Oops’ is right.”

Three minutes later, she smiled and pulled Dick’s hands away from his eyes.

“Hey, sweetie, how’re you feeling?”

He glanced behind her and she winced, expecting him to become horrified, but then he suddenly tossed his flute.

There was a satisfying ‘thunk’ as it made contact with the guy’s head and he fell over the side.

Marinette looked at Dick and gave him a tiny smile. He beamed in return.

“Thanks for the save.”

“No problem.”

She tossed her yoyo and recovered his flute for him, then took his hand. She led her kid through the ship.

~

When he caught up with them, Adrien smiled and rested a hand over the top of the kid’s head. “I found out where the private quarters are.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Follow me.”

The three of them went along in silence. Whenever they passed someone they’d casually knock them over the side. They might live that way.

But probably not.

Still, it was relatively easy.

They walked along the private quarters, poking their head in doors and then closing them.

Eventually, they came to the most grandiose-looking cabin. Really, they should have checked it first, but whatever. Marinette, Adrien, and Dick all gave each other wary looks before Adrien kicked the door open.

The poor guy had been asleep. Sucks.

Zucco looked up slowly and then gasped, reaching under his pillow and pulling out a gun.

Ah. Now that sucks for them.

Dick gave a high-pitched whine.

Marinette and Adrien instantly reached for Dick to push him behind them, only to stop short when their hands passed through clean air. They turned to look, confused expressions on their faces, only to find that the kid was gone.

Uh…

They frowned slightly and looked around. Their faces drained of color when they found their way back to where Zucco was.

Or, rather, had been. Because he was missing, too.

Marinette cursed beside him and Adrien felt like punching a wall. Dick hadn’t been making that noise because he was scared, he’d been making that noise because he’d been creating an illusion.

They had to stop Dick before he did something he would regret.

Their eyes searched the room desperately, their ears strained. There had to be something off. Dick and Zucco hadn’t left, Marinette and Adrien were covering too much of the door for both of them to squeeze past without the illusion breaking, so they were still in the cabin.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly and pulled the door shut, then lopped off the doorknob with her yoyo.

Adrien nodded and they began to shuffle through the room.

It was needlessly huge, but there was a lot of stuff in it. A bed, a mostly untouched kitchen area, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, a possibly real treasure chest, a vanity…

He knocked his staff against things absently. It should reveal illusions…

Where was this kid?

He kicked some jewelry on the floor in irritation and then blinked when they hit the wall nearby without a sound.

Wait a minute…

He swung his staff in a large circle around him and couldn’t help but wince when he hit something that he couldn’t see. The illusion shattered and Dick groaned in pain as he stumbled off of Zucco, holding his side where Adrien had hit him.

But, for once, Adrien wasn’t looking at the kid. His eyes found their way to the floor, where Zucco had curled up. He was beaten and bloody, bruises starting to form on his pale skin.

“Robin…” He whispered, looking at Dick.

Dick was crying, the blunt end of his flute bloodied.

Adrien walked over and carefully pulled the flute from his hands and then drew him into his chest. “You can’t kill him.”

“But --!”

“No buts.” Marinette gave Zucco a kick to the head to make sure he was down before joining the hug.

“But you kill people!”

“And we’re also adults. When you’re an adult you can kill people, too.”

“M’lady…”

She winced a little. “Yeah, I hear it. But… anyways, sweetie, we can’t let a kid kill anyone. Killing… it messes with you. We don’t want that life for you.”

Adrien sighed. “You’re a kid. You can’t kill someone, it’s not good for your psyche. Leave that kind of thing to us.”

Dick took a shaky breath, and then nodded.

They’d been right to not want to include him in this. Vigilantism wasn’t healthy for kids.

And they especially shouldn’t have brought Dick along for this part, they should have expected that something like this would happen. He was too close to the case.

He swallowed thickly and hugged him closer.

Marinette pulled away carefully. She hummed, grabbing Zucco by the back of his nightshirt and dragging him away.

He gently rubbed circle’s into the kid’s back. “You want some ice cream? I think there’s still some at home…”

Dick giggled a little. “That ice cream is so expired.”

“You don’t know that!”

“It’s been, like, three years.”

Adrien sighed. “Okay, maybe, but hush.”

He pulled away slightly from the kid and wiped some stray tears from his cheeks.

“Want to go home anyways?”

Dick smiled faintly and nodded.

~

She dropped back on the bed and smiled as she curled in the blankets. The night had been… interesting… but at least she was home now.

She felt tiny hands wrap around her and her smile widened as she felt a face bury itself in her stomach.

But then her smile lessened. She slowly combed her fingers through the kid’s hair.

“I need your miraculous back, sweetie.”

“No. I want to keep doing it.”

She gave Adrien a pleading look and he sighed, slipping into bed and wrapping his arms around them. “She’s right. We don’t want —.”

“And what about what I want?”

It definitely wasn’t an angle they’d considered. They’d been very concerned about the kid ending up like them (they had given up on trying to fix themselves a long time ago, but they were still self aware of the fact that they didn’t cope healthily). But… what if they were too late? The kid had already been exhibiting signs of their bad coping mechanisms, had been since the start, had they accidentally encouraged it just by being around him?

She didn’t know.

What she did know, though, was that they’d messed up by letting him come along. He’d had a taste of the adrenaline, and there was no going back.

She flinched. “I… are you sure?”

Dick nodded against her stomach. “I want to help people.”

She bit her lip. Dick was one of those kids that would sneak out and do it anyways, the least they could do was make sure he was safe.

Adrien seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he sighed again and squeezed them both tighter.

“As long as you make sure to always be with one of us while you’re doing vigilante work…” he said reluctantly.

“I can do that.”

Oh, thank kwami. 

She smiled and ruffled his hair. “I guess it would be kind of cool to have a whole family of vigilantes...”

~~~

As it turns out, I am unable to write pure fluff. It eludes me.

On the other hand, I managed a Christmas update!! Go me!!

~

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo

[the-night-writer1]

Evil MK Spicynoodles, with one of them on a call with Red's parents/Wukong and the other having fun trying to distract them with kisses?

It was a Thursday afternoon as Mk and Red son laid in bed watching TV. It was a day off for both of them and they just wanted to enjoy eachother's company.

They were watching some demolition derby when Red's phone rang. It was his parents ringtone so Mk groaned as he put his face in red's chest.

Red grabbed his phone while rubbing his brow and answered," Hello?"

"Red son fix that tone of your's" the demon bull king said a bit annoyed at his son's exasperated tone," I called to see if you could come home today to plan with me and your mother."

"father I-" Red started to say before Xiaotain kissed his chest then gave him a grin. Oh boy he was going to struggle with this call, he cleared his throat and finished his sentence," I am rather sick today"

"Sick? Then wouldn't you want your mother's soup to make you well?" The king asked as he raised a brow in confusion. Red didn't sound sick? Why would his son lie about their health?

"well I-" Red tried to respond calmly but mk had moved to his sensitive neck so his voice started to waver as he continued,"I would not want to get either of you stick"

" son are you alright?" The king asked now even more concerned.

"stop that I'm on the phone" Red said as he moved the phone away from his ear for a moment. Having no idea his father heard that. Bull king was surprised. His son possibly had a partner who they didn't know about? Reminded him of his youth. He chuckled softly his son was like him after all.

"Son you could have said you were spending the day with your partner." The bull king said softly as he thought as he spotted his wife walk in.

"I -mfh- I appreciate it father goodbye"

"you have fun but be careful" The bull king said as he hung up. He chuckled softly as he turned to his wife," Seems our son has found someone who likes to tease my dear."

"oh my goodness. Our boy may have found his partner! Absolutely wonderful." His wife said cheerfully.

-----

"you are in so much trouble!" Red son said as he tossed his phone aside and pinned Mk to the bed.

"aw is Cherrybomb going punish me for giving him kisses" Xiaotain said looking up Red innocently.

"yes I certainly am" Red son said with a grin.

[solastia]

Love And Lies | 2

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x F!Reader

Summary: You are a simple maid. When your lady and dearest friend need help escaping an arranged marriage with King Seokjin so they might be together, you do the only thing you can - take her place. 

A/N: Obviously their manner of speaking is somewhat modernized for easier reading. I don’t think you guys want a bunch of thys, thous, and such in your fanfics lmao. 

You and Eleanor had your heads poking out from the carriage window, ungracefully observing the landscape after a guard knocked to let you know your destination was near.

The castle that loomed before you was not just a castle. No, this was a palace. The sheer magnitude of presence this massive pile of stone gave off was intimidating. You could quite easily fit twenty of The Dukedom of Never’s keep across the land this spanned across, and Never’s was vast.

The land that surrounded it was magnificent on its own. Behind the castle was one of the grand seas, with a harbor large enough to contain the Royal Navy - a massive force that was rumored to be over a hundred ships and growing. In another direction was a large forest, one that according to Jungkook was teeming with wildlife and supposedly an evil witch. The fields surrounding the village seemed lush and plentiful and the people they passed appeared healthy and content. You were impressed by the obvious care that was put into the lands by the King.

Jungkook was riding alongside the carriage on his massive black charger, staring at the palace with as much awe as you.

“Do you think it takes him an entire hour to find a garderobe? Or did he just give up after a while and uses a chamber pot every time?” He asks thoughtfully, grinning down at you from atop his horse.

“Why is that your first thought?” You ask with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s a serious concern, sis! Say you just ate some pickled eel that doesn’t agree with your stomach. And the only room they have for such things is in the tallest tower on the other side of the palace…”

You snort, shaking your head at him. “I’m certain in a castle this vast there will be more than one garderobe, Sir Jungkook. I dare say there are perhaps several for every floor and wing. And no doubt the king has one all to himself near his chambers.”

He cocks his head thoughtfully, nodding after a few seconds. “True.”

A trio of guards stops your carriage right at the entrance to the long stone bridge leading to the palace grounds. Jungkook presents them with their scrolls of passage and the guard nods after looking over the seals.

“All clear, Sir. I’ll send word to His Majesty that you’ve arrived.”

Jungkook nods briskly at the guard and turns to the both of you with a wink. It was time to begin your charade.

The two of you bring your heads back inside the carriage in preparation for a more refined entrance once the carriage starts up again, the wheels clicking loudly across the stone leading to the inner bailey. It wouldn’t do to have the servant’s first impression of you to be gawking in wonder like the poor maid you actually were.

And that’s who you knew you would have the most difficulty trying to fool. The nobility had their head too far up their own arse most of the time and you weren’t as worried about trying to pass off your ruse on them. But the servants saw and knew all. Even with you dripping in jewels and rich fabrics you were worried one of them could tell at a glance you were no better than them.

You slide your hand across your gown nervously, picking at the costly fabric. You and Eleanor had spent most of your journey here adjusting each other’s gowns to fit. She was now clad in the finest one that you owned, a simple woolen dress in a blue that nearly matched her eyes, with a brown apron and cape. You were amused by how lovely she looked in such a simple garment as she sat across from you bouncing with excitement like a carefree dairymaid.

You were in a gown that no doubt cost more than you’d ever see in a lifetime. Dark crimson brocade embroidered with gold silk billowed around you like a stiff cloud. The sleeves were nothing more than a flowing golden lace, which also trimmed the scandalously low décolletage. Eleanor had even gone so far as to pile her best jewels on you and you were now glittering in gold and rubies that matched the gown. Broaches, rings, bracelets, even tiny pins placed strategically throughout the massive piles of curls on top of your head. The centerpiece of it all seemed to be the gold-chained necklace from which hung a ruby nearly the size of an egg that settled on the very top of your overly-exposed chest.

She’d even dabbed some of her cosmetics on your face. Your lips and cheeks were pinkened with rose paste and a touch of kohl was rimmed on your eyes. You’d absolutely refused to put the horrid white paste on your face that was becoming popular in some circles of noblewomen.

So, you certainly looked the part of a pampered daughter of a Duke. Your insides were still a mess of jumbled nerves and fear.

Eleanor’s hand lands on your shaking knee, her eyes soft with compassion.

“Are you that nervous?”

“Are you not?”

She sighs quietly, squeezing your knee before bringing her hand back to her lap.

“I am, of course. But I have you and Jungkook watching out for us, so I’m not frightened as I should be, perhaps. I’m more worried about you. So many things could happen and I can’t do anything if I’m supposed to be a servant. What if some nobleman drags you into a dark alcove, or someone tries to poison your meal to eliminate a rival in the bid for being Queen, or...heavens, what if the King falls in love with you?”

You guffaw at that, shaking your head. “There is little chance of that happening, My Lady.”

She huffs, waving her hand dramatically. “I’m not ‘My Lady’, remember. I’m just Ellie. You can’t mess that up. And anyway, you haven’t seen yourself from my seat. You are absolutely stunning. You look like you’re a Queen already and that man is going to take one look at you and beg you to be his.”

“There’s going to be other ladies here, you said?” You ask quickly, changing the subject with your cheeks blazing with embarrassment. As if a King would find you worth a look. No doubt His Majesty had a veritable army of mistresses at his disposal.

She nods distractedly, head turned to people-watch as they entered the busy courtyard. “Even though I was mad at him, I listened when Papa told me what to expect at court. The King’s council declared it was time for him to find a wife. They summoned five ladies in total - three Duke’s daughters, an Earl’s Daughter, and supposedly a Princess from some far off exotic land. Naturally, the Princess is the one the council is trying to push at his Majesty the most, but so far he’s shown no preference for anyone in particular. Papa was only able to suggest putting me in the running because he and His Majesty’s father were good friends. The only reason he didn’t come along with us is because he’s busy with...something about irrigation. I lost interest after that.”

You hum as you digest what she’s telling you. What it sounds like to you is that the King will have to try to stretch his no doubt incredibly busy schedule to accommodate entertaining five different women, most of whom were probably spoiled and not used to having to share anyone’s affections. It shouldn’t be too hard to simply fade into the background and let the other four battle over the King’s attention. With any luck, he’d eventually forget you were even there and you’d be able to escape without issue once Jungkook received the deed to his keep.

The carriage rattles to a stop and your breath hitches nervously. You gulp, the contents in your stomach from breaking your fast that morn lurching dangerously. Eleanor clasps your hand and squeezes.

“Remember that we have Jungkook on our side. He won’t let anything happen to us.”

You nod shakily and exhale deeply. A hand turns the carriage door handle and you stiffen, trying to recall all the lessons in deportment that you’d been forced to attend with Eleanor over the years. Be mindful of your posture, don’t breathe loudly, don’t fidget, keep your head high, and your eyes low. You could do this.

Eleanor leaves first with the help of Jungkook, as he grasps her hand to help her down the carriage steps. Once she is safely lowered and waiting patiently off to the side, he reaches in for you.

“You look magnificent and I have no doubt that you will do well. I’ll be right at your side,” he whispers as he gently holds your fingers to help you gracefully exit the carriage.

You nod and send him a grateful smile before letting your face fall into a façade of polite interest as you look upon the gathered party for the first time.

The appearance of a few councilmembers and a handful of servants to assist with luggage and escort you through the palace was expected. The tall figure standing in the middle, resplendent in crimson and gold attire that mirrored your own was not.

The King himself had come down to greet your arrival.

You eyed him in pleasant surprise as Jungkook escorted you towards him. You knew that he was a fairly young King, but this man was at the very peak of health and good looks. His hair was a dark ebony, although the sun shining on him seemed to bring out flecks of brown. It was surprisingly shorn short, but it seemed to flatter him. And his face...you weren’t the poetic sort, but he seemed to have a face that would belong to an angel. Thick lips and big soulful brown eyes all set in a face of flawless skin. He looked to be nearly as tall as Jungkook, with broad shoulders and a tapered waist atop incredibly long legs.

He was dressed in what you guessed was his courtwear - a crimson tunic over dyed leather breeches, and tall leather boots. Gold accents glittered from his shoulders and waist, with gold embroidery coloring the edges of his tunic and emblazoned over his chest in the form a wolf. His crown was surprisingly simple, as you’d always imagined some huge thing the size of a melon with a mismatched decoration of every jewel they could grab. The one atop his head was a simple golden band inlaid with rubies and diamonds. Perhaps he saved the other one for more important affairs.

His warm brown eyes appeared to widen as you came forth, his mouth dropping open slightly as he seemed to stare at your face.

Was he that horrified by what he saw?

You release Jungkook’s hand after one last comforting squeeze and drop low into a formal curtsy, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“Thank you for inviting me, your Majesty. I am Lady Eleanor Rose D’Aily, the daughter of the Duke Of Nevers,” you say softly, realizing as the words leave your mouth that you’ve just sealed whatever becomes of your fate.

A hand quickly reaches down and grasps yours to help you up, and you glance up to meet the King’s gaze. He still appears a little surprised - about what you didn’t know - but his lips turn in a welcoming smile. You’re surprised to notice the little lines outside his lips and eyes, like he smiles quite often. He also hasn’t released your hand yet, and you note that it’s soft and a little damp, like yours get when you’re nervous. But whoever heard of a nervous King?

“It’s a pleasure to have you, My Lady. We are so glad you’ve made the journey safely. We have made arrangements to have you placed in the apartments in the west wing, nearest my own. When your parents used to frequent court here, that’s where they always stayed. We thought it would be nice to continue the tradition.”

“I thank you, Your Majesty,” you respond quietly, distracted by the way the sun hit his eyes. At first glance they appeared brown, but the way that the sun reflected on them made them appear almost amber. How beautiful.

“Yes, I...err,” he began, and you noticed the way his eyes roamed all over your face, quickly down to your lace-trimmed décolletage, and back up with a blossom of color on his cheeks. “I have some meetings to attend now, but I have some time before supper so we might become better acquainted. Perhaps in the library? My Chancellor, Namjoon, will come for you when I’m free. In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable and ask for anything you might need. My Kingdom is at your disposal,” he says earnestly, with a charming grin.

You are overwhelmed by just how genuinely kind and anxious to please he seems to be. You’d thought for certain the most you would receive was a single servant and perhaps a note to tell you when you were required to show yourself. Instead, he stood before you with his hand still gripping yours, seeming to be genuinely apologetic that he couldn’t speak with you sooner.

And he smelled wonderful, like cedar and clove…

The man next to him cleared his throat meaningfully, causing King Seokjin to jump slightly. He released your hand and bowed shallowly.

“Until later, My Lady.”

You curtsied in return, watching as he turned and strode up the stone steps, whispering furiously with the man next to him.

Behind you Jungkook and Eleanor share a look, nervously observing as you follow the King’s retreat with your eyes and release a heartfelt sigh that both of them were intimately familiar with.

“Oh dear,” Eleanor gasps quietly.

[marshmallow-phd]

Heart of Thorns

Genre: Beauty and the Beast!AU, Romace, Angst

Paring: Tao x Reader

Inspired by: These moodboards created by @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme (x) (x) and my absolute obsession with Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Lost in a forest during a storm, you find shelter in a crumbling castle that had been hidden away for years. The master of the house shut himself away, refusing to engage with the world. Too intrigued and running away from your own fears, you refuse to leave no matter how much he tells you to, wanting to try and find the heart within the beast.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three

**

The view of the country manor used to bring a smile to your face. In the past, you would take off in a run in order to meet it quicker. Its walls were like widespread arms waiting for you to enter its embrace. The garden outside had been your enchanted forest. The rabbits and deer that occasionally wandered in were your friends.

But the wonders of the home that had once been your shelter were no longer as welcoming as before. You wanted to turn back, to make your way through the thick trees, finding that blasted castle, and demanding answers from Zitao.

Why had he thrown you out? Why had he turned such a sweet moment bitter? You knew now that you could never give your heart to Gao. It had already been stolen by another. And even if you wanted it back, it wasn’t possible. You had left it behind in the forest to forever wander the halls in hope of the man in the mask coming for you.

But he wouldn’t be coming for you. As Mr. Chan brought the carriage to a stop down the road, you hopped down from your seat, careful to keep the hood of your cloak over your head. Mr. Chan stepped down as well. From the other side of the carriage, he pulled out two large bags and handed them to you. Odd. You didn’t remember having that much with you on your first trip.

“Take care, young miss.”

You were a bit shocked. You hadn’t heard Mr. Chan speak very much, especially directly to you. His tone implied a sense of protectiveness, a fatherly affection you wouldn’t have expected from him. There was still an awkwardness as he patted your shoulder and stepped back up into the carriage to ride away in the opposite direction that you would walk, but you were thankful for him, just as you were thankful for Mrs. Chan.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped tightly to the straps the bags, one in each hand, and headed for the house.

You heard Cosette yelling before you saw her.

“(Y/n) is back! She’s here! She’s back!”

By the time you reached the door, it swung open to reveal your entire family trying to squeeze through the limited space. Lu made it through first. He threw his arms around you, giving you the type of hug that you hadn’t received from since you were a child. The embraced caused you to drop the bags and return the affection with equal force. Your father came next as he squeezed between you and Lu to take your face in his hands.

“(Y/n). My (y/n). I thought I would never see you again.” His eyes were glossing over. You hadn’t seen him cry in years – since you were small – and your own heart was breaking for the pain you had put him through. While you were enjoying yourself with Zitao and avoiding the confrontation of your possible engagement, he was falling apart.

“I’m so sorry.” You sniffed back your own tears as you pressed your face into his chest. The hood of your cloak fell to your shoulders, exposing yourself to the cold.

You felt his chest heave with a sigh as he patted the back of your head. “Where did you go?”

“Yes!” Cosette screeched from the doorway. “Where did you go? Why did you run away and leave us to starve!”

You swallowed back a scoff as you stepped back. They would have hardly starved if you hadn’t come back. “I didn’t run away. The storm hit sooner than expected. The carriage fell into a ravine. I don’t know what happened to the driver. The horse wasn’t moving so I tried to get back here, but I passed out.”

“How did you survive?” Lu asked.

“I-” You bit down on your lower lip. For some reason, you were reluctant to share the truth. Would they even believe you? They rolled their eyes at the village stories as much as you had before. Being from the city, stories like that were considered beneath their intelligence. “I was found by an old woman who lives in a cottage in the forest. I was sick for a long time, but she nursed me back to health. It took several weeks before my strength came back.”

“And I’m so glad that you did,” your father smiled at you.

“As am I.”

Your eyes went wide as Gao stepped out of the home. He looked different from the last time you saw him. He stood tall, carrying around this aura of importance. His ivory jacket was lined with golden embroidery. His black hair was pulled back and tied with a matching ribbon. There was something about him that gave the impression he was always ready for his portrait to be painted. You had to stop yourself from taking a step away from him as he approached you, grabbed your hand, and placed a kiss on your fingers. The contact made your skin crawl. It was only pure will power that kept you from yanking your hand away and wiping the kiss away on your skirts. There wasn’t any logic beyond your response. Gao had never been unkind to you or anyone else in your presence. Perhaps it was merely the fact that he had wanted to trade helping your father for you being his wife.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Gao,” you whispered.

“Let’s get you inside and near a fire,” he replied with a smile.

“Yes, let's get you inside,” your father agreed. He was about to guide you inside when Gao placed his hand on the small of your back and led you inside instead. Lu picked up your bags and followed suit.

Gao sat you down on the couch and motioned for Claudette to add more wood to the fire. You weren’t that cold, but you didn’t protest. Lu disappeared upstairs with your bags before returning and taking a seat next to you. His eyes flickered in an unsure manner towards Gao. Your father took his usual spot in the armchair to your left, leaving the other side of you open for Gao. Cosette did not seem put out by the lack of propriety for her. In fact, she didn’t seem concerned with the conversation at all. She slowly walked around the room, getting closer to the stairs, but you hardly paid attention. Gao’s closeness was taking up your focus.

“Was the old woman kind to you?” Gao clasped a hand around your own. You quickly withdrew your fingers, hiding them in the folds of your skirt so he couldn’t try it again.

“Yes,” you nodded. “She was more than kind.” Mrs. Chan was motherly towards you. She made you laugh and feel comfortable. She also gave you the tools to open your heart to Zitao. She told you of his past. Because of her, you stopped seeing him as a terrifying figure in the shadows and began to discover the human hidden under the mask. You were sure she had a hand in his changed attitude towards you as well.

“You sound almost… sad to have left?” Lu said.

You blinked at your brother. “I-” You swallowed. “I know I will miss her. She’s my friend.”

“Of course, she would be.” Your father smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Gao cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to himself. “(y/n), I know you’ve been through a lot. However, I would like to form-”

“Look! Look at me!”

Cosette came running down the stairs, the force of her hurry causing her hair to flurry behind her. She was dressed in a silver gown with multiple layers, embroidered with green leaves that seemed to dance in the light. Jewels hung from her neck and wrists, sparkling on her fingers, and dangling from her ears. A small circlet sat on top of her head. Where did she get all of that?

As she came to a stop in the living, standing in the middle in the room so all could see her, she sneered in your direction. “Look! Now I can be as flighty and selfish as (y/n)! Her secret lover must be richer than Gao to give her all of this!”

You gaped at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Your bags were filled with more jewels and dresses like this!” Cosette held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Admit it. You didn’t get caught in the storm. And you certainly weren’t staying in a cottage, being looked after by an old woman. You went to see your lover! That’s what you were actually doing on all your walks, wasn’t it?”

Everyone was staring at you. Eyes were wide and mouths slightly agape. Your breath quickened. You thought it strange this morning that you were being sent away with two bags, but you were too upset over Zitao’s words to you and throwing you away to try to understand the possible reason. This only added to your confusion. Did Mrs. Chan pack those valuables to give you leverage against the marriage? Or did Zitao have it done since he felt sorry for you? You could feel the tears welling up behind your eyes as the confusion tore at your heart.

“I don’t have a lover,” you contended in a meek voice. You weren’t sure if any of them believed you, especially since you kept your eyes trained down on the floor. Streaks bounced off weakly off the wood in the sunlight. It wasn’t as reflective as when you left. Someone would have to clean it better.

“Then how do you explain the gifts?” Lu was frowning at you, but it was cast over with a look of concern and confusion. He wasn’t accusatory, simply wanting an explanation.

You shrugged. “I can’t.”

Gao stood up from the couch. Hands behind his back, he walked over to the window that overlooked the front garden and stared passed the glass. Perhaps you should have been feeling guilty, wondering what was going through Gao’s mind at the moment. But he was the least of your concern. It was your father’s judgement that worried you the most. Would he believe your half-truths?

Because you didn’t have a “lover”. You had someone who had stolen your heart and then shoved you away. You had fallen in love with Zitao. He had kissed you and made you feel warm but nothing beyond that. It had ended before it had truly begun.

No. You couldn’t accept the goodbye. Not in this way. You wouldn’t accept that he simply didn’t care for you. There were layers to him that you hadn’t reached. You refused to let go. Not yet.

“If (y/n) says that it wasn’t a lover then I believe her,” your father stated. You let out the air you had been holding in your lungs, the tension in your shoulders rolling away. “Perhaps this old woman is the heir of an old family who simply prefers to be away from others and felt pity for you. We can certainly sell some of the wares to keep our income.” His eyes flickered over to Gao’s back, which did not go unnoticed by your sister.

“Sell them?” Cosette scoffed. “And when that runs out, then what? We need you to get back on your feet, Father! Have you be respectable again!”

Knowing exactly what she was implying your father said, “It is still (y/n)’s choice. That has not changed.”

Without prompt, Gao turned swiftly away from the window. “I feel that this is a matter that should be discussed between the family. I’ll go back to the inn. Until tomorrow.” He bowed, hands still behind him, and left.

It was silence for a minute or two. You wanted someone to speak – anyone. Even Cosette’s screaming would be more tolerable than this pressing quiet. You would break it yourself if you had any idea on how to start. Thankfully, your father took charge of that task.

“Have you decided yet, (y/n)? Will you marry Gao?”

No. No, no, no, no.

“I haven’t decided,” you said as you shook your head.

Your father stood from his chair, grunting from the effort. “Well. Gao had said earlier today that he could only stay the remainder of the week. I wouldn’t be surprised if by that time he formally asks you for your hand. I hope you have an answer for him when he does.” He gave you a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m so happy for your return. My heart would have shattered if something had happened to you.”

You watched with your own broken heart as your father ascended the stairs. Cosette stuck her nose in the air and flitted up after him, possibly to go through the rest of your bags.

Lu scooted closer to you. His eyes were narrowed, but not in a suspicious way. He studied you the same way he would study his mathematics when he was still in school. “Are you sure everything is alright? Nothing happened to you in that cottage, did it?”

Your hands were trembling, but thankfully they were still hidden your skirt. You didn’t lie to your family like this. You had always tried to be open and honest, at least with your father and brother. But you couldn’t bring yourself to let out this secret. That castle in the woods was your burden to endure. Until you were able to figure out where each of you stood, that is. If Zitao truly didn’t care for you… then you would marry Gao. If you couldn’t have love, then you would help your family the best you could.

**

After a few days spent in the house, adjusting to being back in that space and making up the chores that had been neglected in your absence, you decided to take some time out of the house. Gao had been spending time with your brother and sticking close to you. If he felt that you were overworking yourself or doing work that was “below your station”, he would either call Claudette over or finish it himself. It was a gesture that made you smile out of thankfulness, but nothing more. At this moment, though, you wished his “chivalry” would come to a pause. He’d insisted on escorting you to town. The excuse was so he could eye what wares might be for sale in the market, but you had a feeling is to keep an eye on you, to make sure that you really weren’t sneaking off to see a mysterious lover.

Straw basket hanging from the crook of your elbow, you eyed the meat that was sitting out in front of the butcher’s shop. Mrs. Mooney was busy with another customer so you waited patiently to see if you could haggle with her on the price of a few slices that had caught your eye. Though you could have now paid full price for the items, you rather enjoyed the banter that came with the haggling.

Just Mrs. Mooney had finished up with the other customer, a group of young boys no older than nine came running through the streets.

“We saw him! We saw him!”

Mrs. Mooney put her fists on her hips as she eyed the boys. “What are you going on about?”

“The beast who lives in the woods!” one of the sandy haired boys exclaimed. “We saw him!”

“What on earth were you doing that far in the trees?”

“We didn’t mean to,” another pouted. “Our ball kept rolling and we couldn’t catch it! But we saw him! He was riding a giant black horse with a white spot on its head.”

You nearly choked on the air in your throat. That was Zeus. It had to be.

“He must be a vampire!” a different boy gasped. “Half of his face was stark white, and one hand was covered in scars.”

The first boy hit him over the head with his fist. “He can’t be a vampire, the sun’s out!”

“What is this talk of a vampire?” Gao chuckled as he joined the group.

“It’s not a vampire,” Mrs. Mooney said. “It’s the monstrous lord that lives in the forest, terrorizing anyone who gets too close.”

The grip you had on the basket tightened as you clenched on your back teeth. But you couldn’t say anything and possibly give yourself away.

“I haven’t heard of this lord,” Gao commented.

“He doesn’t exist,” you said in a strained voice.

“Yes, he does!” one of the boys argued. “My mum worked in the castle before he threw everyone out! She says his wife didn’t die because of the fire! She says he killed her! She saw the head wound herself!”

The head would? What was he talking about?

Then you remembered Mrs. Chan saying that there had been an argument the night of the fire. Zitao wouldn’t… sure he wasn’t capable of something like that. It had to have been an accident. Or maybe the boy’s mother was mistaken. Witnesses were always exaggerating what they’d seen.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Mrs. Mooney sniffed. “That boy did have a temper. I bet she found out that he was still sleeping with other girls, threatened to leave him, and he killed her.”

“What do you mean ‘still sleeping with other girls’?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

Mrs. Mooney sneered. “That boy was no prince charming. He chased skirts from here to the capital. It was a shock for us all when he came back engaged and in love. Perhaps it was all a show.”

You stepped back as if Mrs. Mooney’s story had grown a fist and swung at your stomach. Could that be true? Perhaps you were meanly another “skirt” to pass his time. He was probably bored, and you came falling into his lap like a shiny new toy.

Distracted, you left the stall and wandered down the street.

“(y/n)!” Gao ran after you, bringing you to a stop with his hand on your elbow. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No,” you lied. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just not a particular fan of Mrs. Mooney’s gossip. That’s all.”

He stared at you in a manner that let you know that he didn’t quite believe you, but he didn’t push. For another half hour or so, he continued to escort you around the market. You hardly paid attention to prices or the quality of the wares; your mind was far away, pondering on what was true and what had been a lie. Gao soon excused himself, saying that he had letters waiting for replies by at the inn. You were thankful when he left, giving you space to be alone.

Your feet knew where they were taking you before your mind was aware. The neighing of the horses caught your attention. If you were to rent one, you could be back before dark – if you found him, that is.

Mr. Seo, who owned the horses, was happy to watch your basket while you took the tan mare. You told him that you wanted to go riding for an hour or so, to feel the wind in your hair before it got too cold. You felt horrible for the story, but if anyone came looking for you, that seemed less suspicious.

You took the roundabout way to the woods, entering through the same space of trees Mr. Chan had brought you out of a few days before. You tried to think back to the path that Mr. Chan had taken to bring you home. The trees all looked the same. Most were bare of leaves, the branches looking like bony fingers pointing you along your way. In the distance, the sound thunder echoed. But there were no clouds in the sky. You followed the sound. The closer you reached, the more recognizable the sound became: horse hooves.

You urged the horse to go faster so the originator of the sound did not outrun you. Then, in the distance, you saw a black shape blurring past the trees. The forest broke. There was the castle.

Stopped in the field halfway between the forest line and the castle, Zitao sat atop Zeus, staring at you. When you were close enough, you brought your borrowed horse to a stop and slipped off the saddle.

“What are you doing here?” he growled down at you. His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the reins. The scars on his left hand stood out even more.

You breathed heavily, suddenly scared as you stood before him. “I have to know why you threw me out.”

“It was time for you to go.”

“That’s a lie. You wouldn’t have-” You stopped. The memory of that night, before the sweet turned sour, sang softly in your head.

But you didn’t need to finish. He knew what you were going to say. “You don’t know what I would and would not have done. I don’t need to explain myself to you. Now go back to your precious fiancé.”

“Did I mean so little to you? Will you really let me go?” You stared intensely, trying to read his features despite the mask giving him perfect cover. He stayed quiet for a moment or two. He kept your gaze steadily. For a make-believe second, you thought that he might ask you to stay. But your instinct was wrong.

“Why would I keep you here?”

He started to turn away. You ran around him to block his path.

“Did all those days really mean nothing to you?”

“Nothing means anything to me. All I want is to go back to my pathetic, peaceful existence in this castle. Alone. Go face your fate. Your family would be better off.” He urged his horse past you. As he galloped towards the stables, you willed for him to look back, to let you know that he didn’t mean the words he’d said.

He never even took a glance.

So, you did as you were told and mounted your horse, vowing never to think about this place again.

**

When you came back to the house, Gao was there as well. He was sitting at the table with your father and brother.

“I told you she’d be back,” Lu said he clapped Gao on the shoulder. He stood up and came over to you, taking the basket from your hands. “Did you have a nice ride?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“Good.” That was all he said as he took the basket into the kitchen. And didn’t come back.

Your father cleared his throat before rising from his chair.

Your pulse quickened as you were left alone with Gao. Without any inclination, you knew what was about to happen. The subtly of your family was nonexistent. Even leaving one by one wasn’t enough to cover up their expectations. A coat of cold sweat covered your palms. You wanted to run. You wanted to go to your sanctuary in the woods. But it was clear that you were no longer welcomed there. Should you do as Zitao said? Should you resign yourself to the fate that was in front of you? You had told yourself that you would if he didn’t want you. Now that you were faced with the choice, you found your resolution faltering.

Gao stood up, giving a quick clearing of the throat before taking the necessary steps towards you to close in the gap. His fingers, warm and soft from lack of hard labor, grasped your own. Any other woman would be swooning at the gesture, but you were already tainted with another’s touch.

If you had never gone through the forest, if the storm had never happened and you’d never gone to the castle, would things be different? Would you have come to love Gao? Or at least accept his love with mild interest? There was no telling of what might have been, only of what was in your heart now. The pieces left behind were marked with fingers that danced across ivory keys. They only saw one pair of dark brown eyes that couldn’t be eclipsed by the lighter shade looking at you now. But the owner of said eyes and fingers had thrown you away, had made it clear that you had not touched him in the same way. And then there were still the secrets of his past. Was he truly a murder?

No, you didn’t want to believe that.

“(y/n)?”

Slightly startled at how far away your mind had gotten, you returned your focus to the matter in front of you. “Yes?”

“I’m not sure if there is any hope in the question I want to ask.” Gao’s voice was soft, comforting, but there was something underneath it that made you question its sincerity. “We’ve known each other a long and I’ve always thought of you as someone special, someone to be cared for. If you would be so willing, I would like to be that person to take care of you.”

You stayed silent. Even now you weren’t sure as to which answer you were going to give. Would you stay firmly in one spot, hoping that he would come for you again? Or did you move forward, taking the necessary steps to go on?

“What I’m trying to ask,” Gao shifted his weight to allow himself to kneel before you, still gripping your fingers, “is if you would do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?”

Everything stopped. Nothing existed anymore. Not you, not Gao, not even language or time. If you could stay in that non-existence than maybe you could be moderately content. But you were a woman. A woman whose father had fallen into ruin, whose love had scorned her, and who’s family was falling apart. How you wished you could be selfish like Cosette. What a life that must be, to be able to one’s self first. But that was not who you were. In truth, was there really any another answer? Yes, you loved another, but love and marriage were not always intertwined.

You let out that single word quickly before you could think about it anymore. If given even a second longer, you would have changed your mind and ran away.

“Yes.”

**

You were going home.

Not your true home. The mansion with too many rooms and wonderful hiding spots had been sold off long ago. But you were going back to the city. It was the “proper place for Gao’s fiancé”. You must be reintroduced into society, your status now elevated.

It was hard to say goodbye. You would miss the space this home provided. You would miss the trees that outlined the town and the people who greeted you every time you went to market. The people here were friendlier than in the city. No longer would you go fetch the groceries yourself when Claudette was too busy to do so. You would be back to being waited on hand and foot. You didn’t want to go. But Gao had already sent out the invitations to the engagement party in a week’s time and all the important people of society would be there to watch him parade you around the ballroom rented for the occasion. His own home wasn’t big enough to hold such a party. Yet. Gao had already told you he planned on moving to a bigger house after the wedding.

Hood pulled over your head, you stepped towards the door of the carriage that was to transport you back to the city. Before Gao could help you up inside, you spotted a figure rushing down the dirt path. Your heart jumped in your chest.

Mrs. Chan.

Gathering your dress in your hands, you ran towards her, the hood falling from your head. As soon as she was within reach, you pulled her into your embrace. You hadn’t seen her since you left the castle. Tears trickled down your cheeks. As if nothing had changed, she tutted at you.

“Now, don’t be like that dear. You’ll swelled your beautiful eyes.” Mrs. Chan leaned back and wiped the tears away with her handkerchief. “There. That’s better. You didn’t think I would let you leave without saying goodbye, now did you?”

You couldn’t say either way. You hadn’t wanted to give yourself a chance to hope and then be heartbroken when it didn’t happen.

“I have to say, though, I am surprised at how things have turned out.”

“I didn’t want them to go this way,” you confessed. “I had hoped-” No. Best not to voice that out loud.

Mrs. Chan fixed the hood back onto your crown in her motherly way. “I know, dear, but the thing about hope, it never really dies or goes away. The smallest of embers can ignite it once again.”

You wanted to believe that. It was hard, though. Too much water had been poured on your fire. You pulled Mrs. Chan into another hug. “I’ll miss you.”

“Take care, dear. And don’t forget how strong you are.” She left you with one last pat on the cheek and then turned you around so you would go back to the carriage.

“Who was that?” Gao asked when you returned.

“A friend from the village,” you replied, your eyes on Mrs. Chan’s retreating back.

Gao simply nodded in reply before helping you into the carriage. It was stuffy inside with your family and Gao crowded amongst the seats. Your stomach flipped and churned with every bump. No storm was coming this time, so the driver took the main road, avoiding the forest. By sundown, you had made it the inn that was supposed to be your shelter on the last trip. Cosette filled the silence of your rented room with her talk of parties and what store she wanted to buy a new dress from as soon as you all arrived back in “civilization”. There was even a comment of having one of the dresses from your bags altered to fit with the modern fashion. You wanted to scream at her not to touch them, but the fight inside you was hard to find. Instead, you simply turned your back to her as you lied in the bed and blew out the candle to diminish the small amount of light she could see by.

The family settled into Gao’s two-story house with little difficulty. The servants fulfilled their wishes and took their orders. Most were familiar with your brother already, having been employed by Gao’s family for decades. You still tried to do things for yourself, like tending to the fire in whatever room you were occupying or collecting your laundry. The work was quickly snatched from your hands as soon as one of the servants saw what you were doing.

The head housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, was determined to mold you into the madam of the home. She would come to you with the preparations for dinner, for approval on new curtains for certain rooms, and for anything else she thought you should be informed of or have the final say on. Most of these things you saw as frivolous. She always approached you with the most uptight manners and wouldn’t leave until you made a firm decision.

You hated it here. How many times a day were you questioning your decision? How many different excuses had you come up with to break off the engagement? How many times had you considered running away?

The one thing that stopped you from following through on any of those ideas: your father. He was working again, already. His clientele was back, just as Gao had promised. You hadn’t seen your father smile like this in so long that you couldn’t bare to be the one who made it disappear again.

The day of the party arrived. All day you felt nauseous. Cosette flitted around your room, talking sweetly about the eligible bachelors who had been invited and how much missed dancing properly and not having to suffer through the less formal country dances. You sat perfectly still as one of the servant girls, Mei, pinned back your hair and colored your lips. You didn’t want to dance tonight. The dress you were to wear may have been a golden yellow – the color of happiness – but you felt more like a dark cloud in the night sky. You didn’t want to stand up in front of all those people and pretend to be happy. But you would do it. For your father.

Gao was beaming the entire ride to the ballroom. It was located near the center of the city, grand enough for the king and large enough to hold a hundred guests. You were thankful for the gloves that encased your hands as Gao escorted you inside. You didn’t want to feel his skin on yours.

Dozens upon dozens of people milled about the grand ballroom, drinks in hand as they laughed through shallow conversations. Some faces you recognized. Most you didn’t. Gao would stop at every other group or so and introduce you. None of the names stuck and the unknown faces were nothing more than blurs. When you finally reached the main center, Gao snatched two glasses of wine from a passing server, handing one to you before calling for the talking to cease.

“I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming out to celebrate my approaching marriage,” Gao said loudly as he held his glass high in the in air. The singularity was not missed. Did he forget that two people were involved in this engagement? You barely paid attention to his words, focusing on keeping the smile on your face. A tall figure moving in the back of the room caught your eye, but it disappeared before you could make out who it might be. “This has been a long time coming for me. Watching (y/n) grow into the beautiful young woman she is today was a privilege that I am honored to have been given. I know she will only grow more beautiful in our life together. To (y/n).”

“To (y/n)!” The room echoed. Glasses moved stem side up as the toast was declared finished and the band in the corner struck up a song.

Gao finished his drink as well before pulling you on to the dance floor, not even giving you chance to protest. He whirled you around the polished floor like a prized cow. You didn’t bother with the charade of a smile anymore. It was a relief when the first song faded to a close and Gao let you go. He said something about needing to conduct some business and walked away. You finally felt like you could breathe.

“One shouldn’t leave their fiancé alone on a night like this.”

You gasped as you whirled around. It can’t be. It wasn’t possible for him to be standing here, right now in front of you. But he was here, more elegantly dressed than of the other gentlemen with his blue velvet coat, his white mask shining in the candlelight. Without any explanation, he held his hand out to you. There was no hesitancy in taking it, even if you should have been more cautious.

He was here. Your mind kept repeating that over and over. He was here, he was here, he was here.

Zitao pulled you in close, his hand secured in the curvature of your waist. The other hand cradled your right as your left hand rested comfortably on his shoulder. With the grace of a ballet performer, he glided around the dance floor, making up for any misstep you might take. Now you wore a genuine smile. How could you not when he had come? But even in your joy, the obvious could not be overlooked.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered.

He did not wear the same smile as you. “I… I had to come see you.”

Your heart leapt at that answer. “Why?”

“You’re a hard person to forget.”

At that simple statement your throat closed in. Tears would have burst forth if you hadn’t fought to hold them back. Oh, how you wanted to wrap yourself up in his arms.

“You make no sense,” you said with a shake of your head. “You throw me out, yet send me home with lavish gifts. Then I’m told that you used to chase after women like a hunting dog after birds. Was I just another plaything to you? See if we could get the poor destitute girl before she has to go back to her miserable life?”

“No!” Zitao snapped. A quick glance around and then he lowered his voice, “I will admit that I wasn’t the most respectable person in the past. But I’m not person anymore. And you were never a game. You have always been more.”

You weren’t sure why, but you believed him.

“Why didn’t you come or me sooner?” you questioned. Sooner? Why didn’t he take you away that day in the forest?

“I thought you knew how stubborn I was already?” he said with a half-smile. It faded just as quickly as it had come. “I was content in being alone. I thought it was better for me. You can’t get hurt if you don’t let anyone in.”

“But you can’t live like that,” you urged. “Everyone gets hurt. Besides, you have let people in. Mrs. Chan cares about you like her own son.”

He sighed, the air contorting to a laugh near the end. “She said as much. But you must understand. The last time… the last time I felt this way, I was left broken, a monster—”

“You’re not a monster. This,” you bobbed the hand that he held up and down so he would know what you were referring to, “is nothing more than a scar. It doesn’t make you who you are.” But it did come with a past. “That night of the fire… did you kill her?”

Zitao’s Adam’s apple shuddered as he swallowed thickly. Fear was evident in his eyes.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I did.”

Your feet stopped moving. No. You didn’t want to believe it. He was just trying to push you away again. “Zitao—”

“And who exactly invited you.”

Unbeknownst to you, the music had stopped and all who were gathered in the ballroom were circled around you. Gao had cut through the crowd and now stood behind Zitao, his shoulders pushed back in an intimidating manner. He wouldn’t know that such a tactic wouldn’t work. Letting you go, Zitao turned on the balls of his feet, lacing his hands behind his back. He looked more like a powerful lord in this moment than you’d ever witnessed.

“No one in particular invited me,” Zitao said regally. “But as I’m the one who is going to steal away your fiancé, I thought an appearance was necessary.”

“You?” Gao sneered. “And who exactly do you think you are to attempt such a thing?”

“I am Lord Huang.”

“Lord Huang?” A pause. Then Gao laughed. “Ah. I’ve heard of you. From the dimwitted villagers who fear you. Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of vampire or hideous beast?”

“Countryside rumors are usually exaggerated.”

“Are you sure? Why else would you be wearing a mask like that if not to contain the beast?”

Zitao growled. “It is none of your business.”

“Come on, beast, show us what you’re hiding.”

You stepped around Zitao protectively. “Gao, stop it.”

“No, I don’t’ think I will,” Gao said mockingly. “This man is trying to ruin our party. The least he could do is give us some entertainment.”

“Gao, I said stop—"

Before you could finish, the mask covering Zitao’s scars was snatched off his head. Cosette had snuck up from behind and taken the chance to remove the mask. Zitao scrambled to cover his face. Gao laughed at the humiliation, showing you exactly who he was. Zitao ran from the room. Cosette enjoyed the moment, her eyes shining from the laughter she held inside. Taking the mask from her, you started after Zitao, but Gao caught you by your upper arm.

“Where are you going?”

You refused to answer. You stomped on his foot to make him let go and ran out the door. “Zitao! Zitao!” It was too late. He had already mounted his horse and was getting smaller as he raced down the cobbled road away from the ballroom.

“(y/n)!”

Your father and brother dashed out of the building. To no one’s surprise, Cosette was not to be seen. She was probably hiding, feigning shame from the scene you’d dare to cause in front of some poor sap who was falling for it. Lu stepped next to you, hand on your shoulder. “(y/n)?”

“I want to go home.”

Lu looked to your father, who simply nodded. You were led into their carriage and left the party. No questions were asked, for which you were thankful. You couldn’t do it. Even for your father. You loved Zitao. That wouldn’t change. Besides, after that display, you couldn’t be tied to a man like Gao.

Back at his home, you didn’t go to your room. That might have been the safest place to be, the one area Gao wouldn’t storm into because it belonged to him. No, instead you stayed bravely in the living room. You sat on the couch, hands resting in your lap, as you waited for Gao to return. It took almost an hour, but when he did finally come through the door, you knew that amount of time wasn’t enough to calm him down.

“How dare you humiliate me like that!”

“I didn’t humiliate you,” you said firmly. You looked him directly in the eye so he wouldn’t think that you were going to cower before him. “You did that to yourself.”

“You were carousing with another man!”

“I was dancing with him, nothing else. There was music and other couples. You had left me, so I danced with him.”

“It was him, wasn’t it?” You weren’t even surprised that Gao had put the pieces together. You would think him rather stupid if he hadn’t. Gao stalked towards you. “There was no old woman in a cottage, was there? Cosette was right when she said you had a lover. And here we all thought you were an innocent flower. You are no more than a weed in disguise.”

“And you are as beastly as you claimed Zitao to be!”

Infuriated by your words, Gao reached his hand back, palm flat, to strike. You closed your eyes to brace for the hit. It never came. Opening your eyes, you saw that Lu had intervened, catching Gao’s wrist before he could swing.

“You will not lay a hand on my sister,” Lu commanded through clenched teeth. He didn’t let go until Gao finally wretched his arm away.

“She is still my fiancé!”

“No, I am not.” You yanked the ring that had been drowning you like an anchor at sea off your finger and tossed it so it landed on the floor at Gao’s feet. It clanged and rattled as if angry at the abandonment. “You’re right. I do love him. And as long as he exists, I won’t ever marry you.”

“We will be out of your house by the end of the week,” your father stated from the hallway. You hadn’t realized that he was there. You hoped he hadn’t been witness to all that had transpired.

Gao marched out of the room, muttering under his breath. Lu gave you a look of pity before exiting on his own. Your father continued to stand there for another minute or two. Several times he opened his mouth, but each time he left the words inside. Eventually, he too left you alone.

You couldn’t stay here. You needed to get to Zitao.

You waited a few more hours until you were sure most of the inhabitants were asleep. Then, as quietly as you could, you changed into clothes more fit for a long journey and slipped out the front door. You were sure that Zitao would not stay in town. If he did, well he would just have to be surprised at your appearance at the castle. Mrs. Chan would let you in if need be. You paid for a horse and headed out. Towards your real home.

All night you rode, even when your eyes began to droop, you forced yourself to stay awake, slapping your cheek if needed. You had to put as much space between you and your family. Between you and Gao. When you came to the same small village as the inn that you stayed at, you didn’t stop too long to rest. It was already midday by that time. You switched out horses and ate a quick meal before starting again. You were too determined to be slowed down. It was dark once again when you reached the country manor. Close to midnight if you had to guess. Going into the forest at this time would be reckless. You needed to get to Zitao, but you didn’t want to die in the process. It could wait until morning. You still had a whole day on your family. You tied the horse up near a pile of hay outside then went through the back door that had been kept unlocked. The memory in your feet carried you up the stairs to your room. You didn’t even bother pulling back the sheets. As your head hit the dust-covered pillow you fell asleep.

When your eyes opened, it was still dark. Odd. You felt well rested – more than rested. Leaving the room, you went down the stairs to the living room, where a small clock still sat on the mantle of the fireplace. It read that it was eight o’clock. How?

No. Could you really have slept throughout the entire day? That was what you got for not resting during your trip.

Bang! Bang! Bang! “(Y/n)! (Y/n) are you in there!”

Mrs. Chan?

You rushed to the door to see the old woman looking terrified, her hair falling out in bits from underneath her bonnet.

“Oh, thank goodness!” She threw her arms around you before pulling back and grabbing your hand. “Come! You must come quickly!”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Pure fear ran cold through your veins. Was Zitao planning on hurting himself?

“Your fiancé arrived earlier today and started spouting nonsense around town. He started saying that Lord Huang had kidnapped you and that he would kill you like he killed his wife. I knew you weren’t at the castle so I hoped and prayed that you would be here. Your fiancé has convinced the villagers to go after Lord Huang. I’m afraid that they might kill him!”

“What?” What madness was this? Only one thing still gave you hope. “But they can’t find the castle, can they?”

“A few of the previous servants still know the way. Hurry, we don’t have much time!” Mrs. Chan scrambled into the open carriage. That would be too slow if you both rode in it. Hopping on to the other horse, you yelled at Mrs. Chan that you were going ahead. You knew the way now and you had to get to him as quickly as humanly possible. Branches and twigs pulled at your sleeves to slow you down as you galloped though the forest. You batted as many as you could away. Nothing could get in your way.

As the trees broke through to the field, you saw them. A mob of torches and pitch forks breaking through the front doors as they yelled in victory. You pushed the horse faster, up the stairs and through the doors. The villagers had surrounded Zitao in the front hall, shouting curses at him and calling him a murderer as others threw rocks at him as he sat on the ground, taking it.

“Leave him alone!”

Some of the villagers gasped in surprise. You jumped down from the horse and shoved them aside until you reached Zitao. You pushed his hair from his face. He didn’t seem badly injured. A drop of blood ran down his face, but it didn’t look dire. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted as he tried to push away. “Get out of here. Before you get hurt.”

“No!” You sprang to your feet and stared the villagers all down. “You come in here, unprovoked, and call him a monster! The only monsters I see here are you for believing a man like that!” You point to Gao who showed no remorse for his actions.

“He kidnapped you!” a man from the circle yelled.

“No, he didn’t! I left the city of my own accord!”

“He killed his wife!” another argued.

“That is a lie!” The circle parted again as Mrs. Chan came into view. A fury burned in her eyes. “I was there that night. He didn’t kill her. If you have evidence against my word, then get the constable involved. But I will swear in court that he didn’t do it.”

No one could argue with a declaration like that. Murmurs began to ripple through the crowd. Glances were exchanged. Then mumble apologies as the villagers lost their fight. In groups of two or three, they began to head towards the door. Letting out a slight groan, Zitao tried to push himself up. You let him lean on you as he made it the rest of the way.

“Where are you going?” Gao shouted at the villagers’ backs. “He’s a monster! A beast! Just look at him! He’ll ruin your village! What about those he cast out? Left jobless through his cruelty? Are you all cowards?” No one even turned to look at him. Furious, Gao turned to the two of you. His eyes were full of hatred. “You will regret this.” He leveled his gun. Aimed at you.

“No!”

Zitao jumped in front of you right as the gun went off. He fell to the ground as he clung to his side. Blood seeped through his fingers. Gao ran off. The real coward.

“No, no, no. Please, no.” You dropped to your knees and forced Zitao’s hands away from the wound. There was so much blood that you couldn’t see how bad it was. Your hands were covered in seconds. Zitao was already beginning to sway back and forth from the loss. Mrs. Chan was by your side in an instant.

“We need to get him into bed so I can see to his wound.”

“Just let it go,” Zitao groaned. “Maybe it’s better this way.”

“Shut up!” you snapped at him. “Don’t talk like that. Now get up.”

Zitao stared at you for a beat before nodding and letting you get him to his feet. Mrs. Chan helped you get him up the stairs and to his room where he lied down on top of the blankets. He protested when Mrs. Chan cut away at his shirt, but a slap of her hand shut him right up.

“Bring me the pitcher,” Mrs. Chan ordered of you. Without thinking twice, you ran to the dresser and brought the pitcher to her. With a clean cloth in her hand, Mrs. Chan washed the wound to get a better look. She let out a sigh of relief. “It only grazed his side. He should be alright. As long as we get it closed and it doesn’t become infected.”

You weren’t sure if you could believe her. Zitao had drifted off, his eyes closed, completely still. Only his chest moving up and down as his lungs filled with air gave you hope. Mrs. Chan stood up and left the room. She came back with a needle and thread in her hand. She didn’t flinch as she pierced his side to stitch the wound closed. Zitao whimpered at the sharp pain. You moved to sit by his head and grabbed his hand. You kissed the back of his fingers in comfort. When Mrs. Chan was finished, she stood up and sighed.

“He’ll be alright. The wound is closed and wasn’t too severe. He’ll have a scar, but at this point….” She shrugged. With her hand crusted with dried blood, she brushed the hair off Zitao’s forehead. “The poor dear.” Then, she left.

Feeling brave and unwilling to leave him in case something else were to happen, you shifted so you were now laying down next to Zitao. He was more peaceful now; his face smooth, no longer revealing discomfort or pain. You rested your chin on his shoulder. With the tip of your finger, you traced the outline of his mask, down his nose to his chin. Then you sat up and let go of his hand to untie the mask. Zitao didn’t move as you pulled the covering from his face and set it down on the nightstand. You kissed his cheek before settling back down and falling asleep yourself.

**

You woke to a slight tickling sensation on your cheek. Letting your eyelids flutter open, you let out a slight laugh when you saw Zitao awake. He was smiling at you as well while caressing your skin. He hadn’t replaced the mask, letting you see the light, protruding scars on his cheek and forehead.

“Good morning,” he greeted softly.

“You’re alright.”

He nodded. A small tear fell down your cheek. With his thumb, he wiped it away.

Slowly, as if scared you might run away, he leaned in, his eyes drifting down to your lips. At first, the contact was so soft you thought that perhaps he hadn’t kissed you at all. But as the pressure grew, your eyes closed again, and you entangled your fingers in his hair. You were losing yourself in the kiss, happy that he was alive and that you were with him. But his confession at the party pushed itself to the forefront of your mind. You broke off the kiss. Sitting up, you turned away from him.

“What is it?” Zitao asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

You looked at him over your shoulder. “If I ask you a question, will you answer it honestly? Please?”

He reached out and grabbed your hand, bring it to his chest. “I swear.”

You turned to face him fully. As gently as you could, you placed your fingertips on his scar. He didn’t flinch back. “What happened that night? You said you killed her. But I don’t believe that.”

Zitao cringed as if in pain. He looked off to the side before coming back to you.

“I loved her. I swear I did. And I thought she loved me, too. But I was wrong.” He lowered the hand that held on to your fingers, keeping his focus there. “Soon after we were married, I found out that she had a lover, that she didn’t have any feelings for me. I told her I was going to put in a petition for divorce, that I was going to throw her out. That night, she slipped a sleeping potion into my wine at dinner, but I was too upset to drink it all. It didn’t matter. The servants who saw me thought I was drunk as I stumbled to our room. I woke up before she was expecting. Her lover was there, helping her start a fire. I’m sure they were thinking of killing me so she would inherit everything.”

He took a deep breath. You squeezed his hand to let him know that he hadn’t lost you.

“I fought with the man, trying to stop him from ruining my home. My wife tried to get between us, but… one of us – I don’t know who – shoved her away hard enough that she hit her head on the sharp edge of a dresser, falling to the ground. I called out her name. When I was distracted, the man hit me with something hard, knocking me out. I didn’t come to until the fire was put out. The fire had made it over to me. My left side was wrapped in bandages. The man was gone and my wife was dead.”

He didn’t kill her. You knew that in your heart. He didn’t maliciously set out for her to die. He was only protecting himself, his family’s legacy.

You threw your arms around him. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I could have been the one who pushed her.”

Leaning back, you repeated, “It wasn’t your fault.” The memory of that final night came back to you. “Is that why you made me leave? Did you think you would hurt me?”

Zitao shook his head. “No. I was scared you might hurt me. When you whispered my name, I heard her again. I couldn’t go through that. I couldn’t risk being used like that again.” His eyes finally raised back up to meet yours. He caressed your cheek with his knuckles, the gesture absent of fear. “But you’re not her. It took me too long to realize that. (Y/n), can you forgive me for being so stupid?”

“Of course,” you said between your tears. “Of course, I can. I love you, Zitao.”

Happiness could not be enough to describe the elation shining from his smile. Encapsulating your face in his hands, he pulled you forward and captured your lips again. He kissed you deeply, wrapping his arms around you until you were pressed tightly against his chest. He ended it only to ask a single question.

“Will you marry me?”

You barely gave a nod before he resumed the kiss.

**

It was a beautiful day for an outdoor wedding day. The sky was a soft baby blue. A few puffs of white clouds floated through, but nothing gave you worry about rain. It wasn’t too hot or too cold and only a slight breeze interrupted the festivities every once in a while. The guests ran around the field, laughing and playing while you sat in a chair, a veil draped around your shoulders.

“You look beautiful.” Your father beamed with pride as he kissed the top of your head.

“Thank you.” Your face was aching from all the smiling, but you couldn’t stop. Happiness of this level couldn’t be contained or controlled. It needed to be shared.

Lu was standing a few feet away, talking to a baron who had been friends with Zitao’s father. Sitting in a chair with her signature fan in her hand, Cosette wore a snarl on her face. She was probably thinking about how hard it would be to outdo you in marrying a lord. Not that you cared. She would be taken care of, far away from here. Speaking of your husband, he came walking back up with a glass of wine in his hand after making the rounds of thanking guests.

“You will take care of her?” your father asked Zitao for the hundredth time. Your husband took it with stride, beaming in the sunlight.

“Of course,” he answered. “For the rest of my life.” Putting the drink down, he held a hand out to you, but kept his attention on your father. “May I steal her for a moment?”

“Yes, yes,” your father chuckled. “It’s your wedding day after all.”

Zitao tugged you to your feet and led you away from the festivities. He kept going until you were no longer insight of the others. The lone gazebo that sat near the lake on the grounds came closer. Within its walls, no one would be able to find you.

“Finally, I have you alone again.”

You laughed. “You will have me alone for a very long in the future. It’s rude to leave our guests in the middle of the reception.”

“I don’t care if it’s rude,” Zitao stated. You knew he really didn’t care. And ou couldn’t quite find it in yourself to care either. “Dance with me.”

“What?” You looked around but didn’t see a hidden band. “There’s no music.”

“Yes, there is. You are the music.”

You wanted to laugh at his sentimental statement. However, the way he said it melted your heart. So, you gave in, letting him pull you in and rock you back and forth across the wooden floor of the gazebo. He kept his eyes on you, never faltering for a second.

“I love you,” he said suddenly. He’d said it before but your heart still soared whenever you heard that phrase fall from his lips.

“I love you, too.” And you would make sure that he knew it, every day for the rest of your lives. He might not have had the fairy tale ending the first time around, but you were selfishly thankful. Because it gave way for you to meet him and heal his heart. And so, the two of you would live happily ever after.

[prorevenge]

Mock my mother’s death? I bankrupt you.

So this could be a very, very long story. I’ll try to summarize where and when I can.

My now ex-wife Kate and I moved to an apartment in 2010. The house as a whole a renovated town house split between two sides with two apartments on the bottom and two apartments upstairs. I wasn’t the biggest fan of the apartment as it was a much older building that I had ever lived in but I quickly adjusted to the wood creaking throughout the night. On the initial walkthrough we noticed that the only problem was that there was a dip in the bathroom ceiling. The landlord, Jay, promised he would get fixed ASAP.

One year to the day when we moved in there was a loud crash at 4AM. The bathroom ceiling had collapsed and there was tiling and wood all over over the floor and in the bathtub. Now Kate was typically the aggressive one, while I was more passive and laid back, and she kept calling Jay throughout the day. When she got in touch with him at around 9PM she explained what happened and insisted that it be fixed immediately. He rebuffed with him yelling that his girlfriend was a lawyer and he didn’t need to do anything. Now this is where I got mad. I went outside and called him myself. I feigned a relaxed demeanor and at first he began trying to talk to me as a “bro” and kept saying “Dude, I’m gonna get someone out there but it’s gonna take a few weeks..” When he couldn’t sway me that way he began yelling about his girlfriend and her knowing the law. What he was unaware of was that I had read the tenant laws in my state and so as he tried to lie I waited until he was finished and I recited the law stating that, if an apartment was considered uninhabitable then the landlord needed to pay for the tenant to stay in a place until it was resolved. He tried to say that our upstairs neighbor Phil was the super but he wasn’t sure if he could get down there that night. He put me on hold, then came back a few minutes later and said that Phil and his girlfriend were out of state. I rang Phils doorbell and asked, with the Jay on speakerphone, if he was assigned as the super. He laughed and said “No.” Dejected, he said he would have people out there the next day (previously he said they were busy for at least three weeks). There’s more to this incident but it lead to two conclusions:

If you’re going to lie then there has to be a consistency in your lie AND make sure that the people you lie to DON’T communicate with each other.

This is where a feud started between me and my Kate versus him and his mother (she was the original landlord and gave the house to him so he could begin to profit.)

So forward to a year later. Jay stopped coming to the house and his mom began doing the pick-ups. Around this time my ex- and I had been laid off and we were working with social security for food, health, and housing insurance. We were approved for all three in April but we would not get the check until May. When our typical check wasn’t in the landlord’s mailbox he immediately gave a summons saying that he was taking us to court for eviction. The day we went to court he had no lawyer and, going before the judge, here’s the summation:

Judge: Does the defense have a means to pay within 90 days of non-payment? Us: Yes judge (hands over paperwork showing that he will be paid for April and May) Judge: I see no problem. They are breaking no laws. Why are we here? Jay: Well your honor, they have been bullying- Judge: I don’t care, unless they are breaking a law then this case is dismissed.

Suffice it to say Jay and his mother’s were NOT happy. Around this time in my life things were tumultuous. My mother, who had been battling lung cancer succumbed to it in June . This happened at roughly the same time his mom came knocking looking for payment. I explained that I would leave it in the mailbox when we got back from the funeral home and to please just respect my right to mourn. She took her fingers and began rubbing them together, pretending to play the smallest violin.

I will never forget what she said next “Oooh, my mommy just died. Woe is me. She probably had it coming. I don’t care if your entire family is dead. I want my money.” She smiled smugly, proud with what she had just said. I saw red and my heart jumped into my throat. I went, grabbed the check, and handed it to her in absolute shock that anyone would say something so...fucked up? She had finally managed to push a button that very few people I’ve known throughout my life have seen. I went into rage mode but not in the way you would expect.

THE REVENGE: We were always told that if a health inspector came by to not open the door. I waited until Aug. since that was when the lease was going to run out and we knew they would not extend a renewal. I walked up the block to town hall to ask for a health inspection of our property. It was scheduled for several days later. Now it’s important to know several things:

I was friends with all of the tenants. Phil had moved out with his fiancé but the new tenant was Dani upstairs in our side. Tom and Hana on the other side of the downstairs floor had moved out and Jay was still looking for new tenants. The only one who wanted to stay out of this was Rose on the upper right apartment.

I had gotten a key so I could let the inspector in Dani’s apartment and I knew that I could use the back staircase on the right side to let him in on Tom’s, now vacant apartment.

I also knew that Dani was moving out in September along with Kate and myself.

The inspector came and it was glorious. He checked the exterior of the house first noting that wires were exposed, there was an old empty dryer along with other odd clutter in the backyard. I bought him inside the shared entrance and, as I was counting on, he noticed that the last inspected dated back to 1994; 18 years. This meant that for each year he did not have an inspection there would be appropriate fines. For our apartment we had black mold growing in our bathroom and the bubble in the ceiling had begun to grow to problematic proportions. Upstairs, Dani’s apartment was suffering from leaks in the ceiling and it looked like her bathroom ceiling was also on the brink of collapsing. We then went to the basement. The boiler was on the verge of exploding, there was flammable items along with gasoline and a pack of matches sitting right beside it. Two things that I did not know was 1. The fire door that separated the two sides did not close all of the way rendering it moot and, on the right basement side there was a toilet. A toilet that had blown up. It had coated the surrounding walls and the leakage prevented us going up to the floor via the right side. The entire time the inspector was photographing and writing constantly.

We stepped outside and he said he needed to come back. When I asked why he said he had run out of space to write down all of the infractions (he had filled the front and had written an entire page on the back portion). I kindly and coyly asked “Well, how much will it cost right now?” He scratched his head and said “Around 20-30k from what I can see but it’s probably going to be higher as this house was never licensed to be split into apartments.” I thanked him and he was going to come back with the county inspector.

So we moved out and but I got the rundown from Rose. Because he was the current owner he owed all current fines and no one new could not move into the empty apartments until everything was up to code. Because three out of four were vacant he was losing 4,500 in potential rent. He handed the property back to his mother and had to claim for bankruptcy. Now here’s the other thing. Every time an old tenant left and a new one was coming in an inspection was supposed to be done. Now that all of the financial burden fell on her they looked into the records and was she was fined for each time she had broken that rule 750/per. By the end of the year Rose had moved out so the place was hemorrhaging money. I sat back, proud of what I had done, and left it be.

Haha, no, fuck that. I wasn’t close to done yet.

I felt like I had destroyed Jay but my real target had always been his mom. I learned that she had about eight properties throughout three towns in my county. I went to each one, spoke to the tenants, and said I was a concerned tenant from another property and asked if they had any problems with their apartments. EVERY person I asked described the apartment in very poor to intolerable levels and that the mom was effectively a slumlord. She would ignore problems unless someone turned to litigations, she was threatened that they would summon the inspector, or, more often than not, the people would move out, she’d refuse their deposit, and sink those into repairs. People rarely fought back because she knew that the occupants were of upper, lower class minorities. So, being the concerned person I was, I want to the inspector of the other two towns and asked for an inspection to be done with at least one, if not more, would be awaiting the inspector when they came. Turns out that she faced pretty much the same infractions on every apartment she owned. It turned out she actually had 12 apartments but I initially only knew about the ones that fell within my county. The remaining properties in the next county over were given a heads up for a surprise inspection. From what I can tell Jays mom had been in the landlord business for about 35-40 years. That collapsed quickly.

Since we moved literally one block down the road from our old one I got to see Jay lose his primary source of income and have to claim bankruptcy BUT also saw that his mother was also trying desperately to find a buyer for all of the apartments so she could pay off the fines. I learned two years later that she too had to file for bankruptcy. Jay and his mother camped out in front of our next apartment two days in Oct. of 13 before she filed for bankruptcy (I’m guessing to scream at me and/or Kate) so I called the cops and said that there were strange people standing in a no parking zone and they kept looking up at the second floor. A cruiser swung by and told them to leave.

I know I should have used the two months I spent monitoring everything to find a new job but this was the one and only time I wanted to cripple a person where they hurt the most; their wallets. I think I got my point across. None of this would’ve happened if you had just fucking fixed the ceiling before it collapsed Jay!

Th;dr: Had a couple of slumlords, they pushed me to a place where I snapped, and so I went a bit crazy and bankrupted the slumlord AND his slumlord mother as well.

(source) story by (/u/Theliterside)

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Face Value (S2, E7)

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:05 - Hold your horses. Malcolm taught at Quantico?!? I mean, I realize that he probably just did the occasional guest lecture (like most profilers?) but I’m still stupidly proud of him. <3 

0:50 - ngl Malcolm’s a good lecturer. Take it from a university student.

1:13 - “It’s okay. We don’t know what you did and it’s not that mu-....BREATHE” Holy shit. I’m torn between ranting about what a great actor Tom Payne is and losing my mind because this scene is heartbreaking. Look at Malcolm. I swear he’s reminding himself to breathe - not Ainsley. He’s completely panicking but he’s trying so hard to be strong for Ainsley. This boy is an absolute treasure. Brother of the CENTURY. 

1:41 - “You’re right Ainsley. I screwed up.” NO NO NO NO NO. Can you hear the sound of my heart shattering?!? This scene is so much more devastating the second time. When you know Ainsley is putting ON A SHOW HERE. Look at Malcolm’s face. He’s devastated. He blames himself for AINSLEY’S actions. He’s starting to genuinely believe that he’s no better than Martin Whitly. Malcolm’s depression/anxiety is through the roof in this episode. I honestly won’t be shocked if Malcolm has a complete mental breakdown in the next few episodes. Hell, I don’t think I’d be surprised if he tries to OD on his meds. This boy is in crisis and I’m terrified for him. 

1:44 - “I think I did too.”.....this line is interesting. Is this part of Ainsley’s act or is she showing some regret for putting Malcolm through this much emotional torment? She can clearly see that this whole situation is literally destroying her brother’s already fragile peace of mind. 

1:55 - “Today could be the day!”.....the day that everyone finds out about Endicott and Ainsley.....seriously, Malcolm’s daily affirmations this season have done nothing but feed his anxiety. 

2:04 - OF COURSE. A call from Martin. Malcolm is going to have a mental breakdown. It’s just everything. All at once. I’m getting secondhand anxiety FOR him. 

2:35 - hahaha Martin is a crazy, evil, pain in the ass but damn is he entertaining. 

2:55 - 1) Ainsley looks adorable in Malcolm’s hoodie. 2) Ainsley straight up leaves his loft later in this episode. Did she hid a change of clothes in the loft before Malcolm got home last night? Or does she actually leave her big brother’s apartment in his clothes? 

3:05 - “Getting hit by a train might be better.” Yep. Malcolm is entering a dangerous territory. I know depression is different for everyone but for me, when I start joking - out loud - to people I love about death in passing....things are bad. Like I’m getting suicidal bad. I know Malcolm has a morbid job and he talks about death all the time but this feels like Malcolm is starting to consider suicide as an option. 

3:34 - I can see Ainsley’s “You were trying to control me” perspective. BUT honestly? Take a step back and listen to the desperation and fear in Malcolm’s voice. Anyone with half a brain cell can HEAR how scared Malcolm is and how deeply he loves his sister. Ainsley has known Malcolm her entire life. If she was functioning on all cylinders - she would know that Malcolm is just being a protective big brother. He’s not trying to control her - just help her. But this has been a theme for Ainsley since season 1 when she brought up visiting Martin during family dinner. She seems to believe that Jessica and Malcolm think that she’s a “fragile flower” and that she can’t take care of herself. I understand how that could be frustrating but I also find it concerning that Ainsley doesn’t seem to understand that they aren’t treating her that way because they think she’s weak or stupid but rather out of love. Ainsley acts like a petulant child about this sort of thing (anger, whining, eye-rolling). Ainsley acts very entitled a lot, in the sense that if something doesn’t go her way she just throws a hissy fit (think reporting and/or any Whitly family squabble). Ainsley is messed up. Unlike Malcolm, she doesn’t seem to have any self-awareness when it comes to her behavioural eccentricities. Malcolm actively tries to improve his mental state. Ainsley just throws a hissy fit when the world doesn’t bend to her will.....and this stream of consciousness Ainsley rant just became wayyyyy longer than I had anticipated (sorry). 

3:41 - “Promise me.” See that look? Ainsley is pissed at Malcolm. This girl’s anger is concerning me.......what if (crazy thought) the season finale is Martin escaping Claremont to stop Ainsley from killing Malcolm? 

3:43 - I wish I could be happier about this hug. Malcolm is finally getting a hug but.....he instigated it and he’s not the one being comforted sooooooooo I’m still unsatisfied. 

3:49 - “Hey, you look...terrible.” SCREAM IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS DANI!! God. I love how concerned she is about Malcolm. IDC how you feel about Brightwell. If you don’t think they’re good friends - you’re a moron. 

4:05 - This is the moment when I went....oooohhhh yeah. LDP directed this episode. That’s probably why he’s not in this scene. 

4:10 - JT is a GOOD husband. Give him a medal. Seriously - last season he was going to watch the Taylor wedding live with Tally (who was going to wear a hat <3 ), this season Mr. Masculine casually throws out stats about the Housewives. hahaha I don’t even care if JT genuinely enjoys the Housewives or not. I’m just so utterly delighted at the idea of him watching it with his wife and having a good time with her. <3 JT is the definition of a good husband and I’m HERE FOR IT. 

4:34 - .......seriously? I thought Edrisa had realized that this crush is unrequited last season? I love Edrisa but her obsession with Malcolm is getting a little creepy. Like “13 year old in love with the 40 year old math teacher” creepy. It’s sort of cute but also like - gurl. No.

4:38 - Ok. Dani’s reaction to Edrisa hitting on Malcolm saves the scene for me. Lol.

4:51 - Ugh. That is a really creepy corpse.

4:56 - Look. We’ve all obsessed about it already but I have to bring it up: MALCOLM STILL HAS THE BRUISE FROM THE ELEVATOR. SOMEONE GIVE THE MAKEUP DEPARTMENT A MEDAL. THANK YOU. THANK YOU FOR REMEMBERING MALCOLM’S PHYSICAL TRAUMA.

5:21- ......ok maybe I’m projecting my cynicism here but anyone who has framed newspaper clippings about themselves in their office is seriously egocentric. Maybe it’s just me - but that’s a massive turn off and takes someone out of the running for “angel” status.

6:10 - I’m sorry for every time I thought Jessica was a crazy rich lady during season 1. Birdie is so so so much crazier.

6:36 - “Only the men you date.” Bitch. OMG. Who says something that backhanded and cruel to their sibling?!?!? ......oh wait. I remember how this episode ends :|

7:15 - THANK YOU. I’ve been wondering about the status of Martin’s medical certification since I watched the pilot. SO happy to find out that he couldn’t weasel his way into keeping it.

7:37 - Like most of you, I’ve been creeped out by this whole Martin/Capshaw interaction since it was released as a promo clip. Seriously - it’s creepy. There’s an upsetting amount of subtle flirting here. I’m not sure what it is about Capshaw but her whole energy is just really unnerving to me. I immediately hated her in the promo. Istg Capshaw is an undercover serial killer or something. AND IF SHE BECOMES A LOVE INTEREST FOR MARTIN I WILL LOSE MY SHIT.

8:06 - Oh yeah. She’s either romantically interested in Martin or she’s a psychopath on the DL and is playing him.

8:12 - YAY!!! The Yankee mug returns!!! <3

8:34 - “Sometimes the most monstrous people are the ones hiding in plain sight.” Ouch. I know the writers like to project Malcolm’s emotional turmoil on the case of the week but hearing those words come out of Gil’s mouth?!? Ouch. That hurt Malcolm. Bad. It wasn’t even directed at Malcolm but damn. This is not helping his mental health. At all.

8:41 - Gil. Is. Concerned. <3 :) .....pretty sure Gil also suspects about Endicott and Ainsley by now too. .....hmmmmm maybe that comment about monsters was Gil’s way of trying to get Malcolm to confess (or to gauge Malcolm’s reaction)?  

9:15 - I feel so bad for Malcolm here. He’s literally juggling everyone’s problems. Ainsley’s murder situation. Jessica’s personal drama. But is he dealing with his emotional problems? No. He’s too busy being a good son/brother. SOMEONE PAY ATTENTION TO MALCOLM. HE NEEDS A HUG.

9:35 - Deer. In. Headlights. Well....at least Dani knows Malcolm’s about to have a mental breakdown. This boy just got more information to help him crack a murder case and he looks confused, startled, and lost. He’s usually excited and motivated. This Endicott situation is slowly killing Malcolm. I don’t know how much longer he can struggle under the weight of the guilt.

9:48 - Look at this. Ainsley is pissed off that Malcolm isn’t paying attention to her. We know that this whole 2nd murder was a sham so WTF? Is she really just that hungry for attention? That sounds like Martin Whitly to me - the narcissistic psychopath who needs attention like an addict needs cocaine. Also AINSLEY’S acting here?!? We know that she’s lying to Malcolm but holy shit. She’s a really good actress/liar? What else has she lied about?!? 

10:05 - Ok. So just when did Ainsley remember? I honestly think she’s known since at least 2x01.

10:20 - Look. I understand that Ainsley is pissed that Malcolm is trying to ‘control her’. But did she even listen to the desperation and fear in his voice? This boy wants her to stay in the loft because he’s scared of who she might hurt if she’s out in public, unsupervised. He’s not trying to abuse or hurt her - just protect her. Is he misguided -maybe? Should he have called the cops on Ainsley right away - probably. But he didn’t out of love. Ainsley doesn’t even seem to realize how much this whole situation is hurting Malcolm and that’s the biggest problem. She doesn’t show any remorse at killing Endicott. She’s just pissed off that Malcolm lied about it. SHE KILLED SOMEONE an she (outwardly at least) feels no remorse. This girl is a psychopath (sociopath?) and this will NOT end well for Malcolm and Jessica.  

10:27 - This whole scene was awesome btw. Tom Payne flawlessly communicated Malcolm’s panic, fear, anger, and desperate attempts to stay calm. And Dani’s blatant concern (and suspicion) of Malcolm and his mental state.  AND Ainsley being a little brat. Ugh. So beautiful.

10:45 - I love this scene. I love the fact that they have the type of friendship where Dani’s not afraid to call Malcolm out on his crap (trying to hide things from the team). I love that Malcolm isn’t offended that Dani called him out. He doesn’t lie. Ainsley is lost at the moment. Malcolm is more honest with Dani about how the whole Ainsley thing is affecting him than he is with anyone else. I love that Dani still looks suspicious and concerned. I love watching Dani piece this whole thing together. I’m honestly at a point where I think Dani is going to know about Endicott before Gil. I love that Dani gives Malcolm honest, judgement-free advise. Because she doesn’t like seeing how much pain Malcolm is in. I love that Malcolm isn’t completely shutting her out. <3

11:00 - “What if she already has?”.....yep. Dani is totally piecing the Endicott situation together. 

11:09 - “I’m overthinking it.” THIS. There is a split second where you can see the betrayal on Dani’s face. She knows Malcolm is hiding something and she’s hurt that he doesn’t trust her enough to let her in. She’s also probably hurt because she views this as a lie - which brings back 1x20 memories. 

11:35 - “Even when they’re as beautiful as you.” Ugh. I love this so so so so much. Look at how Dani absolutely lights up at Malcolm’s unintentional compliment. I relate to Dani in the sense that I’m a woman in a male dominated field (engineering). I can’t tell you how often men that she works with have probably objectified her, belittled her, and sexualized her. Malcolm isn’t doing this. He doesn’t call her hot. He doesn’t comment on her body or how she dresses. He doesn’t even acknowledge that she’s a woman. He just calls her beautiful. But he does it in a way that you can tell he’s being genuine. He doesn’t expect anything in return for the compliment. He’s not trying to play the long game. He’s just thinks she’s beautiful. He doesn’t even realize that he said it. BECAUSE Malcolm is in profiler mode. He’s focused on the murder - not Dani. He mentioned that Dani’s beauty off-handedly because 1) he believes it and 2) it was relevant to his profiling train of thought. BUT LOOK AT HOW MUCH IT MEANT TO DANI. <3 <3 <3

12:00 - Why is Chabra exiled to the corner of the room?!?! Someone explain this tomfoolery. Is it literally to just get across that Chabra is not the alpha in this corrupt plastic surgery business?!?

12:16 - Ew. Please never say YOLO. Ever. It’s cringy when kids say it but it’s so so so much worse when someone over 25 says it. 

12:18 - hhahahahahahaha OMG. Dani’s face after he says “yolo”. 

12:31 - Yep. This dude is an asshole. DO NOT try to convince Malcolm to get plastic surgery. The dude has enough problems without adding dysmorphia to the mix. 

12:41 - Yep. Chabra is the little puppy that follows Donahue around and does the grunt work.

12:50 - LOOK AT THE NOD DONAHUE GIVES CHABRA when Chabra denies that stock has gone missing. Can you arrest someone for being a rich, corrupt, asshole?! Ugh. Hate him. 

13:20 - Ugh. I really want to know more about Dani’s past. Who in the NYPD tried to belittle, micromanage, or sexualize her just because she’s a woman?

13:30 - “I want Donahue to be the bad guy.” PREACH SISTER.

13:48 - “Easy. We just isolate him with our own alpha males.” hahaha OMG. LET”S GO. I was so pumped when this scene cut to JT and Gil. BUT I was also a little sad. Malcolm doesn’t consider himself to be an alpha male (I mean, he’s not) but it really just drove home to be that Malcolm sees himself as broken. Gil has been Malcolm’s positive male role model for years. But Malcolm doesn’t think he’s anything like Gil. Malcolm thinks he’s broken where Gil is whole, weak where Gil is strong, and bad when Gil is good. It just sort of broke my heart. 

14:00 - hahaha Chabra is just a wimp. Watching Gil and JT play angry cop, calm cop was so so so good though. <3 

14:05 - This was the moment that I remembered LDP was directing this episode. I’m not usually someone who notices camera work or anything but this was a really cool shot. 

15:00 - Oh c’mon. Seriously? Edrisa’s crush has gone too far. She knows he doesn’t like her romantically. Everyone knows it. Please stop this. I’m getting secondhand embarrassment. 

15:16 - Did Edrisa think they were going to do it in the morgue?!? Those flowers?!? Like wtf. I can’t. 

15:29 - I’ll give props to Malcolm here. He’s being really kind to Edrisa here. BUT HE NEEDS TO TELL HER HE’S NOT INTERESTED BECAUSE SHE’S CLEARLY NOT GETTING THE MESSAGE. 

15:33 - Ugh. Look at how uncomfortable Malcolm is. This is upsetting.

16:08 - “What?!? How do you -” Panic. Pure panic in Malcolm’s eyes. Damn. This boy is spiralling. Someone needs to find out about Endicott. Malcolm can’t keep trying to protect Ainsley and Jessica alone. It’s literally killing him. 

17:14 - “All she could see was the ugliness she felt inside.” “That’s a sad way to live.” .........the parallels between the plastic surgery, dysmorphia, and vengeful crime of the week to Malcolm’s current mental health and Ainsley’s crime is slowly killing me. I’m honestly getting annoyed that the other characters aren’t picking up on all the subtle references Malcolm’s making to the fact that he thinks he’s a monster. I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO COMFORT HIM. THAT’S ALL. WHY IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FEDAK!??! 

17:30 - Another point to the Dani/Malcolm friendship. She takes out the gun and pushes Malcolm back. Is she trying to protect him? Technically, yes. BUT she’s just doing her job. I love that Malcolm respects Dani enough to let her take charge and do her job. I love that he’s secure enough about his masculinity to let her. 

18:15 - Yikes. This woman is 90% plastic. Cosmetic plastic surgery is terrifying. 

20:16 - Another reminder of the woman’s ward. Either Sophie Sanders or Ainsley is going to end up in that ward soon (I’m still half-convinced that Sophie is going to appear out of the woodwork and take the fall for Endicott). 

21:49 - “...convinced her that she would never have a career unless she looked the part.” <3 Look at how disgusted Gil is when Dani tells him that. Gil is a good man and I love him forever. <3 

22:33 - I love this. Dani and Gil are both concerned about Malcolm and communicating it in looks. It won’t be long until there’s a team intervention for Malcolm’s mental health (or at least, that’s my headcanon - if someone wants to write me a fic about it I’ll love you forever).

22:44 - WTF GIL. WHY AREN’T YOU ASKING MALCOLM WHAT’S WRONG?!?! IS IT BECAUSE YOU ALREADY KNOW AND YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT IT YET?!?! 

22:49 -.....soooooo does this mean that Gil already knew that Birdie existed?!? How often did Birdie appear after Martin’s arrest?!?! I WANT DETAILS.

23:06 - Holy shit. Look at that little smirk Ainsley shoots Malcolm when he first walks in and sees her. Ainsley is maliciously toying with Malcolm and I DON”T LIKE IT.

23:14 - Jessica is concerned. I promise you Ainsley and Malcolm have rarely - if ever - fought like this in front of her. I was raised in single parent home after my abusive dad left. I know how that changes the sibling dynamic. No matter how genuinely pissed off you are - you don’t stress Mom out more. If you’re just annoyed with each other and doing regular ‘sibling squabbling’ - then you whine and argue in front of Mom. But if you’re seriously angry with each other - you deal with it when Mom isn’t home to see it because no matter what - you both appreciate how hard Mom is working to keep what’s left of your family together. 

23:28 - “Malcolm. Looking more like your father every day.” BITCH. Did she just say that because she watched Malcolm go off on Ainsley? Sure, Malcolm was a little controlling (probably similar to a situation Birdie witnessed between Jess and Martin back in the day) but HOLY SHIT. That is your nephew. Maybe he’s having a bad day. Maybe being told he resembles a serial killer is really damaging to his already fragile pysche. I don’t like Birdie. AND I DON”T LIKE THAT JESSICA DOESN”T STAND UP FOR MALCOLM HERE. 

24:00 - I don’t like this. These Martin+Capshaw scenes are really hard to watch. Martin is still acting like Martin - manipulative, egotistic, manicA. But he’s also acting like a professional doctor (an asshole doctor but still). It’s really disconcerting to watch Capshaw take his medical opinion seriously. Plus - there’s something about Capshaw that creeps me out. I just haven’t figured out what it is yet. But I’m pretty sure she’s a bad lady.  

24:16 - “What bit should I use?” - See this? No. Just...no. I don’t like how she’s taking Martin’s medical advise to heart so readily. 

25:04 - Why was Martin allowed to watch the procedure?!? He’s clearly getting a sick amount of pleasure from the blood and drilling. Look at the way Martin grins at Capshaw too. Martin is planning out an entire scheme to manipulate Capshaw into helping him escape. You can see the metaphoric lightbulb above his head. 

25:29 - This meal. Seriously. Was I the only one who got a glimpse of the meat in a red sauce and thought “human meat”?!? No wonder Malcolm’s main food group is liquorice. 

25:44 - Poor Jessica. She is not having a good time. Jessica’s behaviour in this scene is really interesting though. Jessica repeatedly shoots apologetic looks at Malcolm. She looks at Ainsley with fear. She looks super uncomfortable. She’s not saying much because she desperately wants a relationship with her sister but she also doesn’t want to belittle her son’s career. She’s proud of Malcolm - in her own way. 

26:00 - “The family trust fund would run dry.” hahahahaha YES MALCOLM. THROW THAT SHADE. hahahaha

26:23 - “Most of the time anyway” Wow. Uncalled for. I know Ainsley is mad but this isn’t cool. I have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that Birdie has been approached by Europol about the Endicott murder. I have this terrifying notion that Birdie is trying to collect intel so she can sell the information to Europol. If I’m right (which I’m probably not) this comment will not help Malcolm’s case.

26:41 - hahaha look at how annoyed Jessica is. Is she annoyed because her children are openly fighting in front of their Aunt when Jessica wants to portray the “perfect, undamaged family”? Or is Jessica annoyed because what Ainsley just said was out of line and she’s scared of Ainsley right now?

27:02 - “Why would you do that? I told you I would handle everything.” This. This is why I will argue that Ainsley is way out of line. Yes, Malcolm is sort of trying to control her. BUT listen to his words, the desperation and fear in his voice. Malcolm is trying to protect Ainsley. Ainsley has every right to be annoyed with him but if she was functioning at an adult mental capacity she’d be able to see that he isn’t being malicious. 

27:35 - The fact that Birdie is a backstabbing, lying bitch is so frustrating to me. Look at how badly Jessica wants to have a healthy relationship with her little sister. Jessica just wants a girl-friend to confide in and drink with. I’m heartbroken that Martin stole that from her. 

28:05 - I know LDP was directing this episode but JT or Dani should’ve called Malcolm. Why? This conversation between Gil and Malcolm (WHEN GIL IS WEARING HIS COAT) just makes me wonder - where is Gil going? JT is at Donahue’s apartment. Dani and Malcolm are going to talk to Chabra. Where is Gil going?!? 

29:07 - ....how did Donahue get the coke into the cheetah? Was there a release thingy (like in a piggy bank) that Malcolm just elected not to use in the panic of the moment? 

29:14 - “What else would you hide in a cheetah?” hahahahahaha

29:40 - “No. No. Only if I got the dose wrong.” Yikes. Malcolm is operating in full panic mode here. This is not good for his mental health. 

30:08 - “This is the worst cooking show ever.” hahaha this was hilarious but cooking show? What? Do I not watch enough of those? Because I don’t see the link. 

30:38 - The moment when Malcolm looks at Dani with fear. He thinks he just killed Chabra and he’s terrified that Dani is looking at him with hatred. :( 

30:46 - The two seconds when Malcolm thinks he killed someone. Look at his face. That boy is broken. Again - if he doesn’t have a full on mental breakdown soon I’m going to be so annoyed with the writers because NO HUMAN CAN WITHSTAND THIS MUCH TRAUMA THIS QUICKLY - WITHOUT ANY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT - AND COME OUT FUNCTIONAL. 

31:03 - “I do not miss drugs.” :O Dani :( Sweetie <3 Ugh. This line was heartbreaking because it hurts to remember that Dani had a drug problem. But it’s also really great. She was just in front of 1 gram of cocaine. She didn’t grab for it. It didn’t reawaken the urge to use in her. She was strong enough to say “I don’t miss this life” and say it OUT LOUD in front of Malcolm. <3 Friendship. She’s starting to trust Malcolm more. This is good....until she finds out about Endicott. 

31:45 - Wait. If Birdie knew about Endicott and Jessica.....does she know about Gil?!?!

31:49 - “Trust but verify.” That’s such a heartbreaking way to live. I hate that she has to live in a world without trust because of what Martin did. I want Jessica to be happy. So so badly. 

32:06 - .....how did Jessica find out about the book?!!?! Seriously.

32:17 - “Mummy”. Mrs. Milton is alive?!?! What. OMG. So....but how? Jessica is living in the Milton family home. Jessica is rich. But Birdie has been cut off from the family money. However, it’s clear from this conversation that Jessica and her mother aren’t on speaking terms. So how did this work? When did Jessica move into the Milton family home and why? Where is Jessica’s money coming from? Did Jessica invest her trust fund money smartly and make a fortune? Does Jessica still have access to the Milton family bank accounts?!? AND WHERE IS JESSICA’S DAD?!!? I WANT MORE INFORMATION FEDAK. 

32:49 - Malcolm is his mother’s son. Look at this. Jessica is so hurt by what Birdie has done. However, Jessica sighs, takes a breath and helps her little sister out at the cost of causing herself pain. Malcolm would do the exact same for Ainsley. He has. 

33:40 - “And do we need to talk about last night?!?” Gil has been different this season. Less soft. More strict. 

33:51 - Look at how Gil stares at Dani here. He’s annoyed and concerned. Concerned because she was in close proximity to drugs last night. Annoyed because he created a monster. Gil put together is badass, sarcastic daughter with his unstable, awkward son and they are creating a headache for him.

34:41 - “even for consultants?” hahaha

36:50 - The irony that our killer of the week is a woman who is in pain, feels disfigured, and murders in revenge is so so thick. 

37:18 - “It’s enough to drive anyone insane”.....like the emotional pain that Malcolm is currently suffering from?

38:42 - “The best revenge is letting him live like this.” The moment Malcolm realized that Ainsley was manipulating him. Look at the hurt and fear on his little face. :( 

39:00 - Ugh. I can’t tell who’s manipulating who in this whole Capshaw+Martin relationship but it’s all gross. I swear if they become romantic I will puke. These two are a psychopathic match made in heaven. 

40:08 - I could write essays upon essays about this final scene but I need to sleep. So it’s going into point form without time stamps:

First off - Halston Sage and Tom Payne give us an AMAZING performance in this scene and they deserve an Emmy for it. Seriously. 

Look at how Ainsley walks into the room. She’s self-satisfied. She feels no remorse. She’s pleased that Malcolm has been suffering. 

Look at how utterly empty Malcolm is when he greets Ainsley. This boy is in shock. He’s so deeply hurt and he just had one of his greatest fears confirmed - Ainsley is like Martin. 

“Do you have any idea what you put me through?!?” This. Yes, Malcolm is upset and hurt but there’s a part of me that genuinely thinks this question isn’t rhetorical. There’s a part of me that thinks Malcolm is desperately trying to get Ainsley to admit to feeling remorse so that he can convince himself that his baby sister isn’t gone forever. 

“Do you?” Ainsley is mad. She has a right to be. Malcolm did lie to her. He probably should’ve told her the truth. HOWEVER, if Ainsley was a functional adult - she would’ve just confronted Malcolm about it. She has every right to be pissed but her behaviour has been downright petty, juvenile, and cruel. 

“Underestimated me. For months.” Is this the root of Ainsley’s anger? She mentioned something similar in 1x6 when Jessica and Malcolm tried to stop her from visiting Martin. She resents Jessica and Malcolm for treating her like a child. For trying to protect her from Martin. On one hand, I understand - that’s probably suffocating and frustrating. On the other hand, Ainsley’s acting like a child so....why wouldn’t they treat her like one?

“I have given up everything for you!! I don’t even know who I am anymore.” This breaks me. Malcolm is screaming through tears. He’s so utterly broken (this doesn’t count as a mental breakdown Fedak....you better give me more). Malcolm is rightfully frustrated that Ainsley doesn’t acknowledge that he literally threw out his moral code to protect her. That when this gets out - his relationship with his only real friends since he was 10 years old (JT and Dani) will probably want nothing to do with him. Malcolm probably thinks that Gil will abandon him WHEN the Endicott thing comes out. Malcolm has thrown his fragile mental health down the drain to protect Ainsley. He thinks he’s a monster. Yes. Malcolm made the choice to protect Ainsley. Ainsley doesn’t have to be grateful. She doesn’t have to respect his decision. But acknowledging that his decision was made out of love would sure help. Malcolm wanted to be a good big brother so badly that he threw away his sense of self.

“Protect me? Or control me?” Wow. Okay. I get it. Ainsley feels controlled which is bad for someone who likes being in control. But Malcolm was never trying to control Ainsley. Malcolm was trying to control a situation. Not a person. Is what Malcolm did right? No, lying to Ainsley wasn’t a great choice. But telling her the truth also wasn’t a great choice. He was damned either way. 

“For someone who spent the last few decades trying to recover from being gaslight; it’s ironic how quickly you resorted to it.” Uncalled for. Was Malcolm gaslighting Ainsley? Technically, yes. HOWEVER, one of the main criteria for gaslighting is that the gaslighter is aware that they’re gaslighting someone. I honestly don’t think Malcolm realized he was gaslighting Ainsley - look at his face when she mentions it: he looks heartbroken. BESIDES. How is AINSLEY NOT GASLIGHTING MALCOLM RIGHT NOW?!?! “That’s exactly what Dad would say.” She’s trying to convince Malcolm that he’s just like Martin. She’s made him believe that she murdered a second person. She made him an accomplice to her fake murder. She knowingly continued with this ruse after he came clean and told her the truth. And he was nothing but supportive and protective. Malcolm helped her hide a body. Why is Ainsley playing the victim?! 

Look at the torture on Malcolm’s face right before he apologizes to Ainsley for lying to her. This boy is being gaslight and he doesn’t even realize it. 

FURTHERMORE I DON’T RECALL AINSLEY APOLOGIZING TO MALCOLM FOR MAKING HIM 1) HIDE A BODY, 2) LIE TO THEIR MOM, 3) LIE TO GIL, 4) AN ACCOMPLICE TO A SECOND (FAKE) MURDER, 5) LYING TO MALCOLM ABOUT THE SECOND MURDER. She just says, “Maybe it was a little over the top.” Come on. No. 

“I appreciate that.” SERIOUSLY. Ainsley doesn’t even have the curtesy to say “I’m sorry too.” or “I know you did what you thought was best”?!? Her response feels bitter and angry. She doesn’t forgive Malcolm. She’s still livid despite the fact that her brother is literally breaking apart in front of her. There’s no questioning the genuineness of Malcolm’s apology. That’s sincere pain and remorse. 

This whole scene is super disturbing because Malcolm is on the verge of tears. He’s visibly upset. Yet - Ainsley is channeling a quiet, disassociating anger (similar to what she looked like right before she murdered Endicott). She’s completely consumed by anger. She’s not acting rationally and it’s really disconcerting to watch the contrast between the two siblings. 

“I had to make sure that you were never going to mess with my head again.” .....you know, a functional adult human (hell, even a half-functional adult human) would just verbally confront their sibling about it. They probably wouldn’t fully trust or forgive their sibling right away but they wouldn’t pull a stunt as cruel and malicious as Ainsley just pulled on Malcolm. The problem with Ainsley’s behaviour vs. Malcolm’s is this: Ainsley is intentionally hurting Malcolm out of anger. Ainsley wants revenge. Malcolm reacted out of fear and panic to protect Ainsley. Malcolm just wants to be a good big brother. Neither of them are perfectly in the right but Ainsley is so so so out of line. 

“You need to lighten up. We got away with it.” Ainsley is a serial killer. Say it from the rooftops. This is the first time she’s shown an emotion other than anger/disassociation all episode. Ainsley is happy that they got away with it. Malcolm is crumpling under the guilt and grief but Ainsley is happy. 

“No one does this murder stuff better than us.” Holy shit. I can’t. Malcolm looks so so so heartbroken here. He just realized that his sister is gone forever. AND AINSLEY damn. This girl needs some serious help. She’s going to kill again. She liked it the first time. I bet you she slaughtered the pig just to get her fix. She could’ve boughten the pig’s blood from a butcher shop or something but I bet you she killed the pig herself. And I bet you she liked it.

Hoxley is a flamboyant gay and a cocky profiler. That’s just a fact. 

I can’t. Alan Cummings will always be the villain from Spy Kids to me. I don’t know how I’m going to take Hoxley seriously. 

Yoooooo Endicott’s head is creepy af. 

Damn. This isn’t good. Hoxley is going to ruin Malcolm’s life. I can feel it. 

Okay. I loved this episode. I have a lot of feelings about it (obviously). I’m so bitter that we have to wait until April 13th for the next episode. See you guys next time. If you read this far - thanks for hanging out.